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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27081067">The Living And The Dead</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, F/F, F/M, Fullmetal Alchemist AU, Fullmetal Alchemist Ending Spoilers, Fullmetal Alchemist Reference, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Character Death, Rule of Drama with that, Those Who Sin In the Dark, not even attempting a realistic depiction of mental illness, our main 8 are fine but there will be death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 22:35:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,889</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27081067</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>[A/N, 2/23/2021]: Let's make it official. This one is on hiatus and may not be finished. If you avoid unfinished works, FYI. </p><p>Felix Hugo Fraldarius comes from a long line of Alchemists. His childhood friends Sylvain and Ingrid are also serving in the State military. But nobody’s seen the missing fourth of their group - and heir to the Faerghan dictatorship - Dimitri, for several years. </p><p>Until Felix, out on one of his solo assignments, encounters the horrifying aftermath of a forbidden experiment - one that changes the course of his life forever.</p><p>Why did Dimtri risk everything - his position, his mind and body - trying to raise the dead back to life? And what's the real truth behind the Duscur genocide? The four of them are going to find out - even if it means turning traitor.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Forbidden Transmutation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>CW for blood and body horror (though it's not very detailed).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The worst part about being a State Alchemist is the way people recognize him when he walks down the street.</p><p>Felix understands the logic behind the government’s propaganda. Give each Alchemist a snappy title related to their unique skill-set, fill the newspapers and radio broadcasts with the stories of their adventures. It turns them into something mythical, something heroic, something that lets the people sleep easily at night, knowing they’re protected by these larger than life figures.</p><p>The truth is uglier, the way the truth often is. State Alchemists are nominally researchers, but Faerghus’ enemies have learned, to their cost, that alchemists are also living weapons. A single alchemist can go up against a battalion of troops and win that encounter handily. </p><p>There’s been a lot of that, ever since Duscur. </p><p>Everything’s been <em> wrong </em>since Duscur. It’s a familiar refrain for Felix. He used to be happy. Fraldarius was an ancient and noble line of alchemists, and Faerghus rewarded them well for their continued contribution. Wealth, a vast estate - everything they’d ever need. </p><p>His father is the famous Shield Alchemist, with a talent for creating protective barriers and armor out of any surface. Rodrigue’s alchemy has saved the dictator’s life several times over, earning him additional titles and influence. All eyes are on his older son, Glenn, who is generally regarded as an alchemical prodigy. Everyone is sure he’ll surpass his father in only a few years.</p><p>So Glenn is chosen to protect the dictator and his wife on a state visit to the Duscur territory. It should be a simple assignment, so the PR benefits of the new Fraldarius’ first assignment outweigh any danger. </p><p>Someone miscalculated. Duscurian terrorists attack and kill every single member of the state delegation. The only survivor is the dictator’s son, Dimitri. The first soldiers on the scene find him underneath one of Glenn’s alchemical constructs. Not a scratch on him.</p><p>The propaganda machine has a field day with it. Glenn Fraldarius <em> was </em> a prodigy. His alchemy was perfect. He could’ve saved himself, but he did the right thing, the noble thing, the <em> patriotic </em>thing, saving the heir’s life over his own. </p><p>Felix wants to throw up. He storms into his father’s study to complain about it.</p><p>Rodrigue blinks at him, utterly baffled. “What do you mean? Glenn died as a true State Alchemist. We should be proud-” </p><p>Felix slams the door behind him on his way out of the study. He storms out of the estate through a side door. He never goes back. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He still takes the State examination, though the idea of following in Glenn’s footsteps has gone from a happy ambition to a grim one. He’s always lagged behind his genius elder brother. Now he’ll never catch up. </p><p>Someone in the propaganda machine notes his talent for creating weapons out of any material, how he has so little patience for complex transmutation circles, preferring to quickly twist his surroundings into a blade and take the fight from there. Felix imagines how pleased with themselves they were when they came up with “the Sword Alchemist.” </p><p>It’s clever. It’s both accurate and a meaningful contrast to his father, the Shield. It reminds everyone of Glenn, because Glenn was both Sword and Shield, the perfect Fraldarius. Now Faerghus will have to make do with someone half as good. </p><p>Sylvain and Ingrid are in the same graduating class. They start calling Sylvain the Dark Alchemist for his skill with manipulating light and sinking into the resulting shadows. Ingrid is the Sky Alchemist due to her mastery of the wind. It’s a good title - she passed the examination by <em> flying </em> on transmuted currents.</p><p>They meet for celebratory drinks afterwards, but the mood is anything but happy. There’s a hole in their group. When they were kids, it was always four of them - the son of the dictator, the sons and daughters of his most prominent supporters. </p><p>But Dimitri didn’t attend the examinations. They haven’t even seen him since Duscur. Nobody bothers to tell them why. </p><p>Sylvain carries the conversation, trying to amuse them by flirting with every waiter and waitress in the restaurant, talking of trivial things that don’t actually matter. It’s so fake and false that Felix wants to punch him. Or punch <em> something</em>. </p><p>Ingrid is the first to bring it up. “He should be here. He was just as talented as any of us. And where <em> is </em>he? They never let my calls through, my letters go unanswered…”</p><p>“I think he ran,” Sylvain says. </p><p>“No way. The government wouldn’t let their best candidate for the next dictator get away from them,” Felix scoffs. “He’s stuffed in a bunker somewhere.” The Dimitri he knew would've been miserable about a fate like that, but Felix tries not to think about it. </p><p>“No, wait, think about it,” his red-haired friend says, his voice lowered and conspiratorial. “He hasn’t been on a radio broadcast in a <em> year</em>. Shouldn’t they be reassuring the masses that the late Lambert’s son is alive and well, every chance they get?”</p><p>Ingrid frowns. “You have a point. And you’ve always had a good instinct for bullshit.” </p><p>“What can I say? It takes one to know one.” </p><p>Felix suddenly doesn’t want to be there. He stands abruptly. “Speculating about it is pointless. Whether he’s locked in a government vault or out on the run, he doesn’t give a damn about us. He could’ve found a way to let us know.” </p><p>“He could be in trouble,” Ingrid says, which is reasonable enough, if you didn’t know Dimitri. But Felix knows Dimitri, better than any of them. Once he set his eyes on a goal, he’d tear down anything in his way to get to it. </p><p>If he still cared at <em> all</em>, Dimitri would have contacted Felix. Instead… </p><p>“No. He’s just gone,” Felix says, walking away from the table.</p><p>“What’s his problem?” he hears Ingrid say.</p><p>Sylvain snorts. “Seriously? You were there. You saw the way he looked at him.” </p><p>Felix doesn't want to hear what Ingrid says next. He slams the door on his way out. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He takes a solo assignment that demands he travel to the most distant corner of Faerghus. Then he takes another. And another. He travels to every corner of the country, to the northern fortress that protects them from Srengi raiders, to the southern border, ringed with Adrestian soldiers, both sides bristling to attack at the slightest provocation. </p><p>He’s on his way back to Fhirdiad, fresh off his latest job, when night falls. The nearest town is some tiny rural thing with one general store and one hotel, run-down and shabby. Felix puts his State Alchemist’s pocket watch on the counter. It’s universally recognized - the government will reimburse shop-owners for his meals, hotel-owners for his room.</p><p><em> This </em>hotel owner turns pale and says: “No vacancies.” </p><p>“Excuse me?” He’s never been turned down before. It’s kind of fucked up, actually, how far he could push his Alchemist privileges. He doesn’t, but he’s heard the rumors about the way some of the others behave.</p><p>“No vacancies,” the man repeats, his voice almost breaking on the words.</p><p>Felix sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why are you afraid of alchemists?” </p><p>The man protests, but Felix knows what this is. The familiar nervous tension settles in his stomach. This town knows an alchemist. Probably a rogue alchemist, conducting forbidden research experiments away from the government’s watchful eye. </p><p>He just wants to sleep. But one of his permanent orders is to find and eliminate any rogue researchers. Faerghus’ government can only accept two types of alchemists: state-sanctioned (state-<em>owned, </em>really), or dead. </p><p>“Just tell me where they are, and I’ll deal with it,” he says through his teeth. </p><p>The stammered directions aren’t very good, but Felix soon sees he doesn’t need them. There’s only one real path up the nearby mountain, cut roughly into unyielding stone. It would’ve been impossible for conventional tools; clearly alchemy at work. </p><p>It’s a small cabin. It <em> would </em>have been unassuming and nonthreatening, if Felix didn’t know a rogue alchemist was hiding inside. He draws one of his swords - transmuted into a metal harder than steel - and kicks down the door. </p><p>It’s hard to frighten a State Alchemist. But Felix takes one look inside the cabin and immediately empties his dinner onto his boots.</p><p>The entire floor of the cabin is a large transmutation circle, drawn in lines of chalk. Inside the circle is… something horrific. A dead body - Felix has seen a lot of those -  but there’s nothing normal about <em> this </em>corpse. It’s twisted and broken, like some sort of alien who’s never seen a human making their best effort to assemble one from spare parts. </p><p>The body was summoned by alchemy, but it plainly died immediately afterwards. Blood and stomach acid and other fluids Felix doesn’t care to identify stain the circle around it. There’s no visible wounds; the body simply collapsed in on itself, flesh and bones falling away from the alchemical construct. </p><p>The rogue alchemist is still sitting on the other side of the circle. His blonde hair is matted and wild. He’s covered head to toe in blood and dirt. He rocks back and forth, chanting nonsense under his breath, as if he’s gone mad. Maybe he has. Human transmutation is forbidden for a reason. </p><p>Felix extends his sword and forces the alchemist to look up. The alchemist’s face is a sight. He’s only got one eye left, and it doesn’t seem to be looking at Felix at all. There’s certainly no hint of recognition in it.</p><p>But Felix would recognize this face anywhere, even though it’s been many years. He almost drops the sword as he stumbles back from <em> Dimitri</em>. </p><p>“What the fuck did you do? What… what is <em> that</em>?” </p><p>“I’m sorry, Glenn,” Dimitri whines. “I just… I just wanted to make it right.” </p><p>“I’m not Glenn, you stupid-” Felix’s voice trails off as he realizes Dimitri wasn’t looking at him. He’s looking… at the <em> thing </em>in the center of the circle.</p><p>Human transmutation. Someone sick and twisted enough might turn to that forbidden practice if they wanted to bring the dead back to life.</p><p>“He wouldn’t have wanted that, you self-centered fool!” Glenn was a <em> good </em>alchemist. He never said a word about the forbidden art, even when their mother got sick and passed away when Felix was just a child. </p><p>
  <em> “The dead are dead, the living are living. You have to respect that boundary.” Glenn, looking at Felix with a deadly-serious expression. Felix had asked why they couldn’t do anything to save her, too young to understand the deadly temptation he was dangling in front of his brother. “Honor them by moving forward. But let them rest.”   </em>
</p><p>“I know,” Dimitri sobs. “He didn’t come.” </p><p>Felix forces himself to look into the circle and assess the situation rationally. The body isn’t anything close to Glenn. The proportions are all wrong: too-short limbs, incorrect bone structure in the mangled face. Okay, so Dimitri failed. He didn’t summon Glenn back from… whatever happens after someone dies. Glenn's soul was still at peace.</p><p>If he <em> had </em>succeeded… but no, Felix doesn’t even want to think about that. </p><p>Felix <em> should </em>run his sword through Dimitri on the spot. There’s no pity, no mercy for those who attempt the forbidden human transmutation. If the government finds that he was here and walked away, he’ll earn himself a death sentence right alongside Dimitri.</p><p>He doesn’t even consider it for a moment. </p><p>He leaves the cabin and stalks back into town. The telegram office has a single employee who sleeps in a room right above it. She isn’t happy to be woken up at this time of night, but the pocket watch shuts her up quickly. She sends the message.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
Sylvain and Ingrid show up in a few hours. There’s no train in the country that runs that quickly, so Felix guesses from the nauseous look on Sylvain’s face that she flew them both there. Hell of a way to travel. </p><p>“You don’t want to know what was in the circle,” he says as he leads them inside the cabin. He’s already buried the <em> thing</em>, but there’s no cleaning all the blood and bile. “He attempted human transmutation.” </p><p>Sylvain’s perceptive and not easy to fool. “Oh, fuck, Felix, did he-” </p><p>“Glenn. But he failed. Trust me. That’s the only reason he’s still breathing,” Felix says, though he has a feeling the bluster isn’t fooling either of them.</p><p>Felix forced Dimitri to eat and drink a little, and he seems to be doing better. Relatively. He blinks his single eye at the three of them.</p><p>“Have you come to haunt me, too?” </p><p>Ingrid looks at Felix, who just clicks his tongue. “He thinks I’m a ghost. I keep explaining, but he doesn’t accept that I’m alive.” </p><p>“Hmm… You know, when they told us to never attempt human transmutation, they mentioned a cost.” Ingrid looks at Dimitri and sighs. “At first I thought it was just the eye, but...”</p><p>“Oh no,” Dimitri says, matter-of-fact. “I did that. I wanted to stop seeing their faces. Father, Mother, Glenn...” </p><p>“There you go,” Felix says. “The cost was his mind. He’s gone mad.” </p><p>“Well, he only tore out <em> one </em>eye,” Sylvain says. He’s bent over Dimitri, examining the empty socket with clinical interest. “There was enough of him left to stop himself after that.” </p><p>“I saw the Truth,” Dimitri says, and Felix can hear the capital letter in it. “It punished me for my hubris. It broke my mind and it took… other things, I’m not sure yet.” </p><p>“Okaaaaay…” Sylvain draws the word out, looking up at Felix and Ingrid. “So what now?” </p><p>“We could take him back,” Ingrid says hesitantly. “Human transmutation is forbidden, but he’s the heir. They might make an exception…” </p><p>Felix scoffs. “You know that’s not true. Everyone in this town saw him. Even the government can’t keep that suppressed forever; they’ll <em> have </em>to make an example of him.” </p><p>Sylvain sighs. “Well. Guess we’re all rogue alchemists, then.” </p><p>“I didn’t call you here for that. I just needed money, supplies, a head start-” </p><p>“Come on, Felix, we’re not gonna let you two go alone. Romantic as that might be.” Sylvain smirks, and Felix wants to punch it off him. </p><p>“You’ll need help managing him while he recovers,” Ingrid says, more practically. </p><p>“<em>If </em>he recovers. We might be throwing our lives away for a madman.” </p><p>But Felix knows that he’d do this either way. Call it the Fraldarius obligation, call it the result of his childhood crush on Dimitri, the one that Sylvain will never stop teasing him for. Part of him wants to abandon the man, but the rest of him knows he won’t. </p><p>“Where are we going?” Dimitri asks. They tell him they have no idea, and he just nods and trails after them, like a lost puppy. </p><p>His madness isn’t violent - at least at this particular moment. He’s just talking to people they can’t see, calmly telling ‘Glenn’ about how ‘the Truth’ took payment in damage to his nervous system. He can no longer feel pain, apparently. Or taste anything. Great.</p><p>“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Ingrid says with a sigh.</p><p>“One for all and all for one, right?” Sylvain grabs Dimitri’s hand and extends it, then covers it with his own. Like they’re still kids, making the sort of promises that kids do. </p><p>“Alchemists believe in equivalent exchange. Not sacrificing ourselves for the sake of another,” Felix grumbles. But after Ingrid puts her hand in, he does it too. They all hold each other for a moment before letting go. </p><p>“Fuck alchemy, and fuck Faerghus,” Sylvain says, cheerfully. “There’s a whole world out there. We’ll find some other country and settle down. I’ll finally marry Ingrid, and you two can be our children’s weird uncles.” </p><p>“Getting a little ahead of yourself,” Ingrid complains, though Felix doesn’t miss the pink tint on her cheeks. </p><p>“Where do you want to go?” he asks Dimitri. He feels a little foolish for doing it. The other man isn’t all there. He may never be again.</p><p>“Duscur,” Dimitri says, his voice suddenly calm and clear. Felix stares at him. “It wasn’t them. I <em> know </em>it wasn’t them. We have to help them - and find the truth.”</p><p>“Right under Faerghus’ nose?” Sylvain sighs and rubs his face. “That’s not very smart. I was going to suggest we run across the sea to Dagda.”</p><p>But Felix smiles. “Yeah. It’s stupid and noble and self-sacrificing. Just the kind of thing the real Dimitri would want to do.” </p><p>Ingrid nods, her eyes shining. “I… I hated the people of Duscur for a long time after Glenn’s death. If someone else was behind it… We need to bring them to justice. For Glenn, <em> and </em> for Duscur.” </p><p>“Guess I’m outvoted,” Sylvain says, with an easy laugh. “Hell, we all have to die eventually. Duscur it is.”  </p><p>It’s not going to be easy. Duscur has damn good reason to hate and fear the State Alchemists that slaughtered their people. The four of them have no idea where to start untangling the threads of this conspiracy. They also have to elude every State Alchemist in Faerghus, who will certainly be out hunting for them once the news of their desertion gets out.</p><p>But Felix watches the growing clarity on Dimitri’s face - that familiar naive idealism of the child he knew, newly tempered by a desperate sense of purpose from the man Dimitri’s become - and thinks: <em> I wouldn’t have it any other way.  </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>[10/18]: There's potential for a whole AU here given some the similarities between 3H's TWSITD pulling the strings to orchestrate a genocide and the FMA's Homunculi pulling the strings to orchestrate a genocide... but I just had the idea for the one-shot.</p><p>[11/11]: and now - inspiration struck. We're getting that AU!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Who's the more foolish, the fool or the fool who follows him?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The radio crackles into life as Felix pays for the food. It was a risk going into town at all, but it’s a long journey to Duscur (on foot - they certainly can’t risk the trains, and even <em> if </em>Ingrid was powerful enough to fly all four of them, they’d be spotted immediately). They desperately need supplies for the journey.</p><p>And so, reluctantly, the three of them who <em> aren’t </em>a) insane and b) wanted for human transmutation are currently stuffed into this tiny town’s even smaller general store. Ordinarily, they’d simply flash their pocket-watches, but that’d rather defeat the point at the moment; luckily, Sylvain’s family is stupidly rich, and he thought ahead, plundering the Gautier treasure vault before disappearing- </p><p><em> “Gotta be honest - it was 50/50 that I would’ve done it even if you </em> didn’t <em> call for us,” Sylvain admits, with that too-quick, too-easy grin he uses to pretend everything is fine. The one that stopped fooling Felix a long time ago. “They don’t care that </em> I’m <em> gone. They </em> do <em> care that the Dark Alchemist is gone. You know?”  </em></p><p>And yeah, Felix knows all about that. Rodrigue’s brand of forcing him to uphold the family name and State Alchemist status isn’t as… well, call it what it is, <em> abusive</em>… as the Gautiers’, but it was cloying in its own way. Part of him is happy he’s done with it. </p><p>Ingrid understands, too. The Galateas are new on the scene, relatively - switching sides from Leicester a couple hundred years ago, during one of the endless wars between their two countries. They don’t have ancestral wealth or deep ties to the community that Gautier and Fraldarius do. Ingrid turning traitor will hit them hard - she says she doesn’t regret standing up for a friend, but Felix catches her with wet eyes when she thinks he isn’t looking.</p><p>His stomach lurches as the ‘special alert’ sound chimes, and the radio produces the words he’s been fearing. “... rogue alchemist - forbidden transmutation - report on sight. Last seen with three State Alchemists who are wanted for questioning: the Sword, Dark, and Sky. Physical descriptions-” </p><p>The shopkeeper, a middle-aged man with a darkish skin tone, snaps the radio off and narrows his eyes at the trio. He’s probably an immigrant from Sreng or even Almyra - it doesn’t matter, Faerghus doesn’t treat them well, regardless of their origins, though at least they’re still standing, unlike Duscur. </p><p>The shopkeeper hasn’t been taught to hate and fear State Alchemists… <em> yet. </em> But he doesn’t have any loyalty to the state either. This could go either way...</p><p>“Funny thing is, I don’t need the physical descriptions,” he says, his voice clipped and faintly accented. “My daughter’s a particular fan of Mr. Gautier.” </p><p>Sylvain rubs the back of his neck in that way he does when he’s caught in a lie, or by the wrong father with the wrong girl (Felix saw it a lot, in their younger days, before Sylvain finally got it together enough to ask Ingrid out). </p><p>“I could give her an autograph,” he says, eyes darting nervously around the store. For once, they’re lucky; they’re the only customers. </p><p>“That would be nice,” the shopkeeper says. “Extra silver would be better.” </p><p>Sylvain frowns, but produces another handful of coins and puts them down next to the paper with his signature on it. They could just kill him - hell, Sylvain could make the body disappear into one of his shadows, never to be seen again - but the guy hasn’t done anything wrong. There’s no need to leave that daughter an orphan. </p><p>“Okay,” Felix says, once they’re safely out of the shop. “No more towns.” </p><p>Ingrid nods. “This <em> should </em>be enough to get us to Duscur. If not… We can live off the land.” </p><p>“I’d like to see Sylvain try,” Felix snorts. He’s been out on the road ever since he got his certification - he can hunt a little, and knows which berries will kill him and which are edible - but the vaunted Dark Alchemist went straight to a desk. He hasn’t fought anything but paperwork since. </p><p>Sylvain isn’t flustered. “You two hunt, I cook. It’s better that way. I remember what <em> you </em>think passes for proper seasoning, Fe.” </p><p>They all smile, but it only lasts for a moment before it fades. It’s hard to think about the ‘good old days’ of their childhood and young adulthood, because it was always the four of them together, and now? It’s three plus one. The fourth may never be the same. </p><p>Dimitri is still asleep when they get back, which is honestly for the best. He’s been easy enough so far, following the three of them without protest; but he’s talking to himself (more accurately - to people who aren’t there, ghosts that seem to haunt his every step). Every moment of their journey reminds Felix what went wrong, what might never be <em> right </em>again.</p><p>But this is the price for human transmutation. Any idle thought <em> he’s </em>ever had about defying the bounds of life and death, trying to seize Glenn’s soul back from oblivion, died for Felix when he saw the mess of blood and guts Dimitri left on that cabin’s floor.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They can’t stick to the main road, either - too many Faerghan military patrols. On the bright side, the soldiers’ activity isn’t out of the ordinary - which means the shopkeeper was good to his word. If he wasn’t, half the army would be swarming over the area. A single rogue alchemist is bad enough - four together is a near-existential threat to the government. </p><p>If only they knew. Dimitri isn’t trying to start a coup or a rebellion. He’s after something even more deadly to the blood-stained Faerghan regime: the truth.</p><p>“We <em> do </em>have a specific plan when we get to Duscur - right?” Ingrid asks, for the third time, as if the answer will be any different.</p><p>“Of course we don’t,” Felix scoffs. “Sylvain has a death wish, you’re too in love with him to see sense, and Dimitri’s gone mad.” </p><p>“Then why are <em> you </em>here?” she snaps back. </p><p>“He’s <em> also </em> too in love to see sense,” Sylvain says with a knowing smirk. He’s even expecting Felix to throw the rock and dodges in time - the bastard. </p><p>“I have a plan,” Dimitri says. Apparently they’ve caught him in a brief moment of lucidity. “The surviving Duscurians are said to have appointed a chieftain. We’ll inform him that we believe there’s a conspiracy at work - and offer our assistance.” </p><p>Felix feels a headache coming on. Part of him prefers the mad version of their friend, since the so-called sane one is just as likely to get them killed. “And… how are we getting to this chieftain alive, exactly?” </p><p>“I know him,” Dimitri says. “I saved his life during the Tragedy - well, it wouldn’t have been in danger in the first place if not for Faerghus, so I don’t think I deserve much praise, but… I’m hoping it’s enough that he’ll want to hear me out.” </p><p>“Great. Risking our lives on your <em> hope </em>that this guy won’t kill us on sight.” </p><p>“Come on, Felix,” Sylvain chides him. “It’s too late to turn back now. We can either <em> maybe </em> be killed in Duscur, or <em> definitely </em>be killed when the State Alchemists catch up to us.” </p><p>He’s right, of course, which just makes it more annoying.</p><p>They come up to a river and find a broken bridge, the metal rusted and worn down by the passage of time. If they <em> were </em>on the main road, it wouldn’t be an issue, but Faerghus either doesn’t know or hasn’t bothered to fix this particular bit of infrastructure.</p><p>Sylvain groans. “Great. It’s going to take <em> all day </em>to draw a transmutation circle big enough to fix this up…” </p><p>“I believe I can help with that, actually,” Dimitri says. </p><p>He strides past all of them and up onto what’s left of the bridge. Instead of drawing a circle, he just… claps his hands together. Felix can <em> feel </em>the thrum of power in the gesture. Then Dimitri slams his hands down on his side of the bridge, and… the whole thing starts to knit itself back together. </p><p>They’re all staring. Dimitri turns around, a sheepish expression on his face. “I may have forgotten to mention one or two things about my… Ah, current condition.” </p><p>“You can perform alchemy without circles,” Felix says, his tone accusatory. He isn’t sure why Dimitri holding back bothers him so much. </p><p>“The Truth took a lot from me, but it also… gave me something? If that makes sense? Even the force that we call ‘God’ is ruled by equivalent exchange… at least, that’s what it told me.” </p><p>“Cool,” Sylvain says, as if unprecedented feats of alchemy are something he sees every day. “You and Felix are gonna be a killer combo. You can transmute him a sword like that-” He snaps his fingers. </p><p>“I… suppose I could, yes. If he wanted me to.” And Dimitri is looking at him with that kicked-puppy expression that always annoyed Felix. (The one he thought he might never see again). </p><p>“We should be planning how we <em> avoid </em>fights, not start them,” Ingrid says firmly. She hikes her traveling pack up higher on her shoulders and is the first across the bridge. </p><p>Felix comes last, his fingers tracing speculatively over the hilt of one of his swords. It <em> would </em>be a lot faster if he didn’t have to draw a circle every time one broke… and if Dimitri could fix a whole bridge that quickly, a weapon would be easy… </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They must’ve got lucky with the bridge, because they’ve been traveling another two weeks, and Dimitri hasn’t had another good day. He doesn’t seem to sleep at night, so they let him take watch, but then he keeps them all up, anyway, because of his loud and entirely one-sided conversations with the dead. </p><p>His waking moments are, if anything, even less coherent. </p><p>“The dictator is a sham, and <em> they </em> are all in on it,” he informs Felix. “No - more accurately, <em> they </em>are pulling the strings. As if my father was some puppet.” </p><p>“What are you talking about? <em> Who </em>are you talking about?” Felix supposes one should be gentler when they’re attempting to break through the delusions of a madman, but he’s never been capable of ‘gentle.’ </p><p>Dimitri just shakes his head. “Lambert grew tired of playing his role, planned to move against them. So they cut his strings. They’re all in on it, Felix. Margrave Gautier, Count Galatea, Charon, Rowe...” </p><p>Felix knows he shouldn’t encourage him, but asks anyway: “And that’s why you ran?” </p><p>“He left a letter. It told me everything. It said to go to your father, Felix, for protection, but I… I couldn’t face him. Not after Glenn. I thought, let me take care of <em> that </em>and we’ll both be able to see Rodrigue… Won’t he be so happy?” </p><p>“I doubt it.” Even if human transmutation <em> worked</em>, it was still an abomination to nature, a spit in the face of the rules of alchemy; Rodrigue wouldn’t have liked it. Glenn should stay dead, the way the dead are supposed to. </p><p>“My mistake,” Dimitri says, “was trying it without a Philosopher’s Stone.” </p><p>“That’s a fairy-tale. It doesn’t exist,” Felix scoffs. The idea of an object that let alchemists bypass the law of equivalent exchange had captured more than one imagination, past and present, but it was impossible. You couldn’t use alchemy to create something that broke the rules of alchemy; it was a paradox. </p><p>“That’s what you think,” is all the other man says, before his rambling loses any semblance of narrative. </p><p>Sylvain and Ingrid hear most of it - they can’t help it, with how <em> loud </em>Dimitri is. They pull him aside at camp that night.</p><p>“Do you think there’s anything to it? This conspiracy business?” Ingrid asks, her face drawn. Her unquestioning patriotism and loyalty to the government has started taking hits from the things she’s seen and done as a State Alchemist; the Ingrid from their childhood would have dismissed this instantly. </p><p>Felix shakes his head. “Paranoia is a symptom of madness, isn’t it?” </p><p>“I’m not so sure it’s <em> just </em> the madness,” Sylvain says slowly. That cynical mind of his has always seen things the other two don’t. “Think about it - we know there’s at least <em> one </em>traitor in the government, because the terrorists knew exactly when and where to hit Lambert’s party.” </p><p>“One, sure. But every leading noble in the country - except for my father? Who is somehow allowed to live despite <em> not </em>being involved?” </p><p>“It might not be a question of ‘allowed,’” Ingrid says. “The Shield Alchemist’s defenses are legendary. They’d have to move openly to take him out - it’d show their hand.” </p><p>Felix frowns. As much as he took issue with his old man, Ingrid had a point there; Rodrigue was a formidable alchemist. “He named both of <em> your </em>fathers. Surely that’s not…” </p><p>“I don’t know,” Ingrid admits. “He’s always so… tense, withdrawn. We’re not especially well-off, and our territory is still reeling from the famine, and I thought that was the only reason, but… There could be more to it.” </p><p>“Margrave Gautier,” Sylvain says, the formal title stiff on his lips. He hasn’t said ‘dad’ or ‘father’ in a <em> long </em>time, “is an ambitious and conniving bastard. If you told me that he stabbed Lambert in the back personally, I’d believe it.” </p><p>“If this is all true, why were we given State certifications? Why aren’t we locked in some cell right now, hostages to ensure our fathers’ good behavior?” Felix demands.</p><p>“Nah, us being State Alchemists is even better,” Sylvain says. “They can keep track of our movements - use us as their living weapons for as long as we’re nice and ignorant. And if we ever started sniffing around, <em> then </em>they throw us in a cell. Win-win!”</p><p>“This is ridiculous,” he scoffs.</p><p>“Maybe. But if Dimitri’s <em> right</em>, then it’s certainly connected to Duscur,” Ingrid says. “When we get there, we’ll find the truth. All of it.”</p><p><em> If we survive</em>, Felix thinks. He grunts and starts pitching his tent for the night. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They’re very nearly killed the moment they cross into Duscur. One moment, there’s little to no indication that they stepped across the invisible border line; the next moment, a sniper rifle round slams into the ground in front of their feet, kicking up an angry cloud of dust.</p><p>If the sniper hadn’t been feeling so charitable, fired for real instead of taking a warning shot… Well. They’d be dead right now, no two ways about it. </p><p>“Hands above your head,” someone says through a megaphone.</p><p>They comply immediately. Luckily Dimitri is having one of his rare good days, and his hands shoot up with no hesitation.</p><p>“This is going <em> great</em>,” Felix says. “Amazing plan you have here.”</p><p>“Let’s be patient. They haven’t killed us <em> yet </em>- someone wants to talk to us,” the other man says, totally calm, as if being shot at it is just another day for him.</p><p>They’re quickly surrounded by Duscurians brandishing small arms - stolen from Faerghan armories on the border, no doubt. The men and women aren’t wearing uniforms, but are wearing whatever tan-colored cloth they could get their hands on. Blending in with their native desert, Felix supposes. The whole outfit screams <em> terrorist </em>(to Faerghus - doubtless the surviving Duscurians have a more positive view of this guerilla force).</p><p>And then the sniper walks up, and Felix blinks, because - for one thing - the kid is wearing a Faerghan desert camouflage uniform. For another, his face is as pale as any of theirs - he’s very clearly <em> not </em>from Duscur, he’s a deserter from their enemy’s army, and yet - they trusted him with the most important job in the whole ambush? </p><p>“They’re State Alchemists, all right,” the kid says, and reels off their identifying monikers before adding, “Never seen the fourth. But he looks… familiar.”  </p><p>A woman addresses the kid in the Duscrian language. He wonders if the scar over her eye and the burn-marks around her arm were the work of ordinary Faerghan troops. If it had been a State Alchemist, she’s much less likely to be standing here alive. </p><p>The kid answers back in the same language. He’s a little awkward with the words, but he seems to get his point across.</p><p>The woman with the scar is clearly in charge of this unit. She barks orders, pairing them with sharp gestures. Duscurians surround the four of them and bind their hands behind their back with lengths of rope.</p><p>“I told her that you would be harmless without the use of your hands,” the kid explains. “My name’s Ashe, by the way. Ashe Ubert.” </p><p>“Good start, but you gotta take our gloves, too. Some alchemists draw transmutation circles on them for quick access,” Sylvain says. Felix knows for a fact Sylvain is one of them, and curses his friend for being so uncharacteristically honest. They might <em> need </em>that. </p><p>Ashe pauses, then does as Sylvain suggests. His eyes widen when he sees the Dark Alchemy symbol on the redhead’s gloves. “Huh. Maybe you <em> aren’t </em>here to cause trouble.” </p><p>“We are not. We only wish to speak with your chieftain,” Dimitri says. “That uniform - unless my eye deceives me, you were a lieutenant, yes?” </p><p><em> Unless my eye deceives me… </em>Felix rolls his eyes and pointedly doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t have to look over to know Dimitri is extremely proud of that awful joke. </p><p>“I was,” Ashe says warily. “My first commission landed me on the front lines of our Duscur… They called it a campaign, but it was a slaughter. A <em> genocide</em>. I couldn’t stand it.” </p><p>“And the Duscurians - they accepted you?” </p><p>“<em>They’re </em>not the ones who hate people just for the color of their skin,” Ashe says. There’s anger in his voice - not directed at them, necessarily, but honest and real all the same.</p><p>If he’s expecting an argument, he doesn’t get one. Ingrid keeps her uncharacteristic silence. The guilt on her face is obvious enough - Felix knows she’s going back through all the things she’s ever said about Duscur, when she blamed them for Glenn’s death. He thinks her ignorance was understandable, but she’ll regret what she said for the rest of her life, all the same. That’s probably a good thing. </p><p>“I heard a few State Alchemists caught bullets in the back of the head that day. Good riddance,” Sylvain says, causing Ashe’s eyes to nearly bug out of his head. </p><p>“I’m glad to hear you’ve found a home here,” Dimitri adds. “What Faerghus asked you to do was reprehensible.” </p><p>Ashe shakes his head. “I can’t tell what your game is… but the chieftain will sort it out. We’re heading to camp. Follow behind them, and don’t make any sudden moves, or…” He doesn’t have to say the rest; the wicked-looking rifle slung over his shoulder does that for him. </p><p>“Well, we’re not dead yet,” Felix mutters, when the Duscurians start to walk and their four prisoners stumble behind them, the sniper at their backs. “It’s a start.” </p><p>“This chieftain seems to treat people fairly. Ashe is allowed to serve with them and was even given a trusted position,” Ingrid points out. “He might be willing to listen to us.” </p><p>“Only one way to find out. Hey, when we get there, let me do the talking. I’m <em> extremely </em>charming, as we all know,” Sylvain grins. </p><p>“You won’t say a word,” Ingrid snaps back. “We need to be <em> honest</em>. They’ll see right through your bullshit.” </p><p>“You’re so cruel. I can’t believe I’m cursed to be in love with you.” </p><p>“I’ll speak to him,” Dimitri says. His voice is firm, and he even sounds a little like what he used to be - the heir to the country’s dictator, trained in politics and diplomacy and public speaking as soon as he could walk.</p><p>Felix just hopes he’s still this eloquent whenever they make it to the Duscurians’ camp - that he won’t have slid back into ranting and raving about some vast conspiracy. He sighs. Great. Their survival hinges on a madman managing to keep a temporary lid on it. </p><p><em> And what does that make us? </em> he thinks. <em> Who’s more insane - the </em> actual <em> lunatic, or the lunatics who choose to follow him? </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>HUGE shout out to margepit, PhantomTroupe13, MoonLord, and cyranonic for their comments on Chapter 1. It was planned and posted as a one-shot, but the reception got me thinking about how it would continue - and here we are! </p><p>I don't see any works from the first 3 but definitely check out cyranonic's fics! I first came across them via their Dimitri/Felix modern AU: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25552684</p><p>I normally upload pretty regularly but I don't have any schedule in mind for this. We'll just see what happens.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Oasis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Duscurians keep a wary eye on their four prisoners. As compliant and non-threatening as they appear to be, with their hands tied, these people have been burned before. Perhaps literally, if any encountered a Faerghan flame alchemist.</p><p>Felix wonders if Dimitri even needs to clap his hands together to use his new alchemy, or if that was an affectation. Could he free them all with a thought? Maybe - but it’s a moot point. Dimitri is the most docile prisoner, either confident in his ability to reason with the chieftain, or resigned to his punishment and willing to die.</p><p>Maybe it’s both at once.</p><p>All his life, Felix has been told that Duscur is a barren desert. Supposedly, that’s why its people are so jealous of Faerghus, despite her cold winters that make it difficult to maintain a harvest. But on their second day, he starts to see evidence that this was another lie, another piece of propaganda. The desert is starting to give way, and he sees more green and growing things, more water. </p><p>Duscur will never have tall forests and vast trees, but it’s not a wasteland, either. </p><p>Ashe grins when Felix asks him about it. He’s easily the most relaxed of their captors - Sylvain voluntarily disarming a weapon Ashe never even thought about helped put him at ease. His natural cheer has started to bleed into their interactions (and Felix wonders, if this chieftain orders them dead after all, how Ashe will take it. Will he look away, unable to bear it? Or will he pull the trigger himself to make those deaths merciful?) </p><p>Felix guesses the latter - the kid seems soft, but he <em> is </em>a sniper. All of the good ones he’s known are capable of that sort of double-think. Dealing death, seeing the light go out of their victim’s eyes, but hey, at least it’s impersonal and quick. </p><p>“Duscur <em> was </em>barren, but over the centuries, its people developed a complex irrigation system,” Ashe is saying. “They tamed the desert and made it work for them.” </p><p>“It only took a day’s journey to see the signs. Has anyone from Faerghus bothered to research the lies they’re printing?” </p><p>It’s a rhetorical question, but Ashe answers it anyway, his expression troubled. “I’m sure the higher-ups know, but the lie is better. Tell us Duscurians are these strange savages with nothing to lose... When the truth is, they’re just people.” </p><p>“Not a lot of people see through it.” He doesn’t miss Ingrid’s wince. She’s been doing a lot of that - Felix tells her not to beat herself up, just be better moving forward, but he knows Ingrid too well to expect her to work through her guilt overnight. </p><p>“Or have the moral courage to defect,” Sylvain adds. “I mean - <em> we </em>did, but not for any noble reason, honestly. Just helping a friend.” </p><p>Ashe glances at Dimitri. This day isn’t so good; he’s marching with them, but he doesn’t really seem to be <em> there</em>. He keeps looking at things the others can’t see and talking to people they can’t hear.</p><p>“I just thought… What kind of example am I setting for my brothers and sisters?” Ashe says, and Felix stifles a sigh. If they were <em> actually </em>enemy agents, they’d play this kid like a fiddle. He’s just admitted his pressure point. Kidnap and threaten to torture those siblings - it’s the kind of thing Felix has been ordered to do before. </p><p>“You didn’t leave them in Faerghus, did you?” he asks bluntly. </p><p>Ashe shakes his head quickly. “They’re at the settlement.” </p><p>“Good,” Felix grunts. Safer that way - at least until Faerghus realizes the Duscurians aren’t as broken as they assumed, and sends a new army out here.</p><p>If he, Felix, was this chieftain, he’d probably kill them on sight and leave their bodies for the desert vultures. They don’t need the kind of attention that harboring four rogue alchemists will bring them. </p><p>On the other hand, the chieftain might realize what the Faerghan high command does - that one alchemist, one living weapon, is a match for whole battalions of ordinary troops. It wouldn’t take him (or her) long enough to realize they can use Dimitri’s savior complex, Ingrid’s guilt, Sylvain and Felix’s loyalty to their friends...</p><p>Is Sylvain right? Is Felix here because he’s <em> in love </em>with Dimitri? No - the very idea is ridiculous. Anything he felt was for another version of Dimitri, a whole lifetime ago. </p><p>It’s a childhood crush. He’s over it. He’s <em> not </em>looking over at Dimitri so often for any other reason than concern for his mental state.</p><p>Sylvain meets his eyes and makes a crude, suggestive gesture. Felix trips him and pretends it was an accident. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>After three days of marching, they finally reach the Duscurian settlement. It’s no town - there’s no walls or houses - but it has enough people for one. They’re living in tents instead, and are clearly nomadic. Don’t stay in one place for too long, or Faerghan alchemists will find it and tear it down, burying you in the rubble. Currently, they're camped around an oasis, filling up water skins and canteens and watering their pack animals.</p><p>The patrol’s suspicion is nothing compared to the abject <em> terror </em>in the eyes of the civilians here. Felix has read the reports of the destruction Faerghan alchemists wrought on Duscur, but reading it is one thing. He can see it now: in the way a mother clasps a young child to her, shielding his tiny body with her arms; in the way all conversation stops dead, as if cut off by a blade; in the way an old man scowls and spits out Duscurian curses, making some sort of warding sign with the fingers of both hands.</p><p>“What’d he say?” Sylvain asks, because the oaf can’t help himself. He has to <em> know </em>exactly what insults people hurl at him, letting them pile up on his back until he’s about to snap under the weight of it all. </p><p>Felix doesn’t stop Ashe in time; the sniper translates with a sheepish look on his face. “Er, I think it translates to ‘dog.’ But in an insulting way. Something like ‘accursed lapdog of the unholy Faerghan government.’”</p><p>Sylvain laughs his humorless laugh. “That’s a good one! And he’s not wrong, is he? That’s what we are. Dogs, barking and biting on command.” </p><p>“That’s what we <em> were</em>,” Ingrid says firmly.  </p><p>“Our sins are not so easily washed away,” Dimitri mutters. Great, of course he’d pick <em> now </em>to start paying attention. </p><p>“Shut up,” Felix tells him. “Save it for the chieftain’s judgment. If he wants us to die for Faerghus’ actions, then we die. I’m prepared for that. But <em> you </em>need to get your shit together and tell him why we’re really here.”</p><p>Dimitri snorts out a startled laugh. “Well, I did insist we come here. I suppose it’s only fair that I do my best to ensure we survive it.”</p><p>He stands a little straighter. A little less ‘insane’ and a little more ‘the man who was raised to rule a country.’ </p><p>Sylvain digs an elbow into Felix’s ribs. “Never heard of <em> insulting </em> someone back into mental coherence, but you two have always had a weird dynamic.” </p><p>“There’s no rhyme or reason to it,” Felix says, his face warm for some reason. “We’re just lucky that he’s over the fit, that’s all.” </p><p>“Riiiiight.” </p><p>Before Felix can think of what to say to that, they’re in front of the largest and grandest of the tents. Two guards, one man and one woman, search them for weapons and alchemical seals on their clothing or bodies. Once they come up clean, the soldiers pull the flap aside and let them walk in under their own power.</p><p>The chieftain of the Duscurian people is a huge man - at least half a head taller than Dimitri, and much broader in the shoulder. His face is marred by a series of scars that Felix guesses were inflicted by Faerghan bayonets. He’s wearing the same armor and tan over-cloak as the rest of his soldiers; the only indication of his rank is a medallion pinned to his chest.</p><p>“Chief Dedue,” Ashe tells them, before lowering his head in a respectful nod. </p><p>Dedue speaks with the patrol captain in their own language. It doesn’t seem to take her long to explain the situation. Dedue turns an impassive expression towards his four prisoners. Felix doesn’t see any hint of recognition in his eyes. Did Dimitri miscalculate? Or did he imagine some relationship that didn’t exist? </p><p>“Why are you here?” he asks the three, speaking Faerghan with the barest hint of an accent. His eyes narrow at the one-eyed man. </p><p>“We - all of us - deserted Faerghus,” Sylvain eventually supplies. They wanted to leave the talking to Dimitri, but he’s staring at Dedue like he’s seeing a ghost. Maybe he <em> is</em>. That would be just their luck, for him to go unresponsive right now. </p><p>Dedue frowns. “You’re inviting the Faerghan military to chase you straight into my people’s home. They won’t let the dictator’s heir escape so easily.” </p><p>“We’ve eluded their patrols and trackers to the best of our ability,” Ingrid says. “I don’t think they know where we are.”</p><p>“Perhaps not <em> yet</em>.” The chieftain’s expression is still unreadable. “If you wanted to run, you should’ve run somewhere else. I cannot offer you sanctuary without risking my own people, and I refuse to do that.”</p><p>“Say something,” Felix hisses in Dimitri’s ear. “You said you knew him!” </p><p>Sylvain licks his lips. “We, uh… we <em> did </em>run, but not without purpose. We want to help. Dimitri, here,” he adds, with a significant look in his direction, “especially wanted to help.” </p><p>“Help us?” one of the soldiers snarls, his Faerghan more heavily accented than his chieftain’s. “He’s the reason they slaughtered us!” </p><p>Dimitri winces as if he’s been struck. Felix watches Dedue’s expression soften, but Dedue doesn’t intervene, letting his soldiers mutter darkly among themselves. He’s waiting to see what Dimitri is going to do. </p><p>Then Dimitri falls to his knees in the center of the tent, pressing his forehead into the dirt, and the Dusurians aren’t muttering anymore. They’re watching in shocked silence. </p><p>“I can only beg your forgiveness, Chief Dedue,” Dimitri says. His voice carries in the quiet tent, even though he’s talking into the floor. “I knew for a fact that your people were innocent of my father’s murder, but Faerghus’ High Command refused to listen. I could have - <em> should </em>have - done more. I failed, and many of your people died.” </p><p>“Lift his shirt,” Dedue orders. After a moment of hesitation, Ashe steps forward and uses the nose of his rifle to show off -</p><p>The network of scars that criss-cross over Dimitri’s back. Felix has seen them already. With the condition he found the man in, hunched over the human transmutation circle in week-old rags, there had been no hiding them. But Dimitri had hardly been in any state to explain where he’d acquired those injuries, and Felix hadn’t bothered to ask.</p><p>“He received those at scars the same time I did,” Dedue tells his soldiers, indicating his own face with one hand. “Threw himself in the way of Faerghan bayonets to save a single Duscurian - to save me. He may have failed as the dictator’s heir, but he succeeded as a man. Are any of you from Anbar? You may only be standing here because of his actions that day.” </p><p>It’s a long speech by Dedue’s standards - Felix can tell from the look on the Duscurians’ faces. Sylvain is grinning, and Felix realizes why a moment later. This whole thing has been something of a performance, directed at Dedue’s own people.</p><p>Dedue always trusted Dimitri - but he needed his soldiers to see the man for what he is, instead of the hated heir to Faerghus’ hated throne. </p><p>The discussion gets heated, and the Duscurians revert back to their own language. Dimitri keeps kneeling in the exact same position. Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid don’t move, either, not wanting to draw attention as possible threats. </p><p>Ashe explains: “Anbar is a province. One of the few that wasn’t totally destroyed by Faerghan troops. A couple of the guards are from there. They’re backing up the Chief’s story… Others are saying - that Dimitri didn’t do enough. ‘What kind of ruler’s son has so little power? This must be a trick.’”</p><p>Eventually Dedue calls for some sort of vote. Hands go up - most of them on one side, but Felix can’t tell which side it was. Ashe is grinning a moment later, though, so it must have gone their way. </p><p>“Please stand,” Dedue says gently. “You are not here as the heir of Faerghus, but as the man who saved my life. As my guest of honor.” </p><p>Dimitri gets to his feet slowly. There are tears in his eye. After the Duscurians cut through their bonds, he steps forward and - <em> hugs </em>Dedue. The chieftain returns it, ignoring the muttering it causes among his people. </p><p>Felix scowls. Not because there’s anything wrong with a hug, only… The two of them are clearly - close. A lot closer than Dimitri implied when he simply said he saved the man’s life.  </p><p>“All four of you will join me for lunch,” Dedue says. “Ashe, please attend as well. Bring your brothers and sisters.” </p><p>Felix guesses this is a pointed gesture - Ashe and his family are some of the <em> very </em>few non-Duscurians he saw in the camp. Dedue can’t overcome all the hate and resentment his people feel towards outsiders, not in one day; but he can keep chipping at it until they’re more willing to accept these four outsiders and the help they can offer.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>For Duscurians, lunch seems to be the largest and most important meal of the day. Seemingly everyone in the camp gathers in the mess tent, seated at several long tables. Everyone is eating the same thing, some sort of fish and vegetable medley, mixed in the same sauce and served over rice. </p><p>It’s a lot spicier than the Faeghans are used to. Felix enjoys it, but Sylvain and Ingrid are wincing their way through the meal, drinking a lot of milk. Dimitri can’t taste a thing, of course. Ashe and his family are clearly used to it, and Ashe is happily explaining exactly what each vegetable is and how they were cooked. </p><p>The buzz of other conversations covers their words as effectively as if they were all alone, and Ashe can’t help asking about the day of what Faerghans call the Tragedy. The excuse for the attempted genocide of Duscur. </p><p>“Why are you so convinced that the people of Duscur are innocent?” he asks Dimitri. </p><p>“I was right there with the dictator - with my father. The first shot was fired by our side, killing an innocent Duscurian child. One moment, she was trying to sell flowers to our soldiers, the next…” Dimitri swallows. “One of them shot her. <em> Murdered </em>her.” </p><p>Dedue nods solemnly. “Faerghus had recently seized Srengi territory in battle, and some of us thought the visit to Duscur was the preamble for more conflict. Most were willing to give diplomacy a chance, but when the child fell… Our worst fears were confirmed. We’d invited butchers and monsters into our homeland.” </p><p>“That soldier was never found. Every single member of our party was killed, except for me - saved by Glenn’s alchemy - and <em> him</em>,” Dimitri scowls. “I will never forget his face.”</p><p>“You checked the state records, right?” Sylvain asks.</p><p>“There <em>was </em>no record. It’s as if he never existed. That’s when I started to realize how far up the chain of command this conspiracy goes. Rodrigue’s letter simply confirmed it.” Dimitri digs into a pocket and produces a very crumpled piece of paper, which he hands to Dedue. </p><p>“Where did you learn to speak and read Faerghan?” Ingrid asks. Only people who know her as well as Felix can tell how uncomfortable she is. Dedue’s fluency with their language is challenging many of her unthinking assumptions. </p><p>“My family worked as blacksmiths. We lived right on the border and had customers on both sides,” Dedue says. He frowns, burrowing his brow as he reads the letter.</p><p>They note the past tense, and none of them are brave enough to ask the question that would confirm it: his family is dead. He’s the sole survivor. </p><p>Dedue passes the letter to Felix, who scans it wordlessly. It’s his old man’s writing, all right. It sounds like insane rambling - every member of the military high command and all the nobles were in on the Tragedy. Rodrigue begged Lambert not to go on the trip, but the dictator ignored his fears - and then his death confirmed them.</p><p>But if Dimitri is telling the truth about what he saw… if both sides were manipulated into fighting by a single man who then disappeared into the warm embrace of Faerghan bureaucracy… Maybe Rodrigue isn’t so crazy. <em>But he's still an asshole, letting Glenn go out and die on a mission that he </em>knew <em>would go south,</em> Felix thinks savagely, crumpling the letter in his fist.</p><p>“I believe we could count on his support,” Dimitri is saying to Dedue when Felix tunes back into their conversation. “Fraldarius territory is on the other side of the country, though, so it will take us some time to coordinate.” </p><p>“And what <em> exactly </em>are we coordinating? This shit goes all the way up to Fhirdiad itself,” Felix says. “That’s the only place to get answers, but we can’t just… march on the capital.” </p><p>“I’m insane, not suicidal,” Dimitri says with a grin. “No, I propose we send a message to Rodrigue and ask him to take Fraldarius soldiers out on maneuvers. The traitors know he’s not one of them, and will be afraid he’s trying something. They’ll divert forces to the east, out of central - making it easier for us to move about.”</p><p>“Move… where, exactly?” </p><p>Dimitri’s single eye gleams. “Why, you pointed it out yourself, Felix. We need to uncover the truth - and we can only do that in the capital.” </p><p>“Ashe and I will accompany you,” Dedue says, with no hesitation whatsoever.</p><p>“What about your people?” </p><p>“As their chieftain, it’s my duty to avenge our dead,” the Duscurian says, in a tone that brooks no argument. “They’ll move deeper into Duscur and start covering their tracks. They will be a good deal safer than I.”</p><p>Sylvain groans into his cup. “From one suicide mission to another. Half of the alchemists in Faerghus are out looking for us, and Fhirdiad has the half who aren’t!”</p><p>“Once we arrive, where <em> exactly </em>do we intend to look?” Ingrid asks. </p><p>“High Command,” Dimitri says promptly. Sneaking into the capital isn’t enough risk for him, no, he also wants to walk straight into the military headquarters and alchemists' research center. “If our enemies kept any records relating to what they intended to accomplish in Duscur, we’ll find them there.” </p><p>Ashe swallows, but he nods a moment later. “I’ll do it! I want to make sure the people responsible pay for this.” </p><p>“This is an awful plan,” Felix complains. “Sneaking around the wilderness was one thing, but back home? Our faces are too well-known. We’ll be identified, raise alarms, and find Fhiridad locked down tight by the time we get there.”</p><p>Dedue… just smiles. “I believe I have a solution for that.”   </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>* Ishval is obviously presented as a desert climate in FMA. We don't have much to go on with Duscur, but given what Dedue says about plants/flowers from there, I'm guessing it is a much richer climate. I'm sort of just mashing them both together here. </p><p>* It was very fun to write a different dynamic for Dimitri and Dedue, one where Dedue has basically all the power. Obviously it goes well because they're both very good bois. </p><p>* Any ideas on where our two remaining Blue Lions are in this AU? I will say that they will make an appearance soon, and get our whole band together...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Contradiction in Terms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Felix has to admit - he likes Dedue’s plan. It’s simple, as the best plans always are, and it correctly identifies a weakness in Faerghus’ security. For all their aggression and military might, the country’s contempt for the defeated foreigners ensures that Duscurian refugees are never considered a serious threat. </p><p>Certainly, bored soldiers tend to push the refugees around and bark orders… but Faerghus is surrounded by hostile nations on all sides. Her military forces must constantly keep their eyes peeled for operatives from Sreng, Leicester, or Adrestia. Duscur, a broken and dead nation, is simply not worth that same level of concern.</p><p>Dedue has been playing on that for months. The Duscurians who settled in Faerghus are those who had no interest in leaving civilization for the hard, nomadic desert life that was all their old home country could offer them now. But they haven’t forgotten where they come from - or how much Faerghans hate them. Any Duscurian who wants to pursue a new life in the desert can count on an entire network of refugees to help them dodge patrols, give them shelter for a night, and pass them on to the home of the next volunteer in the chain. </p><p>“We will travel the same way - but in reverse,” the chieftain explains. “I have people from the border town of Kleinman all the way to Fhirdiad.” </p><p>“They can help us avoid most of the patrols, but civilians won’t know every detail. We’ll need to be prepared to bluff our way through at least <em> some </em>checkpoints. What’s our cover?” Sylvain asks. </p><p>“Traveling merchants. I am from Duscur-” There’s no hiding it. Faerghans might mix Dedue up for an Almyran - they can hardly tell the difference- but they <em> will </em>know he’s an outsider. “And my partner, Ashe Duran, hails from Dagda. He’s hardly likely to be recognized. But you four will keep covered - and quiet.”</p><p>Felix takes the traveling cloak, hood, and mask that Ashe hands him. Once he’s wearing it, only his eyes will be exposed. It will be stuffy, hot, and uncomfortable - and he <em> really </em>doesn’t like leaving his fate in another’s hands, even if Dedue and Ashe have been competent so far. But there’s not really much choice. State Alchemists are too immediately recognizable... and god help them if someone realizes who Dimitri is.   </p><p>“That attire is common for Albinean mercenaries,” Dedue assures him, misinterpreting his expression. “They believe staying fully covered helps conceal their body language and the kind of weapons they’re carrying. It won’t raise suspicion.”</p><p>“Should I tell him the truth?” Sylvain says, sing-song, after Dedue leaves to round up two mules to pull the cart. “I have a degree in Felixology. <em> That </em> is your jealous glare.” </p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>“Such a romantic tale. Literally throwing himself in-between his love and certain death,” his ‘friend’ says. He presses a hand to his heart and sways, pretending to swoon. </p><p>“It’s not like that,” Felix insists. He isn’t <em> jealous </em> of Dedue. That would be completely irrational. He just doesn’t like leaving his fate in another’s hands, that’s all.</p><p>Sylvain takes it the wrong way - perhaps on purpose; he wouldn’t put it past the man. “Oh yeah? Good! You <em> finally </em> talked to Dimitri, found out he’s still single and waiting for the right guy to come along. A beloved childhood friendship blossoming into something <em> more </em>-” </p><p>Felix growls and shoves him, hard enough to cut off the stream of prattling. “We’ve got a mission. Stop running your mouth and <em> focus </em> on it.” </p><p>“Exactly. There’s no better time for it! A life and death situation, adrenaline pumping, previously guarded thoughts coming out…” </p><p>Felix just walks away. There’s no dealing with Sylvain when he’s in one of <em> these </em>moods. </p><p>He goes to complain to Ingrid, though she doesn’t seem all that sympathetic. Maybe it’s because she’s busy packing the cart and instead of helping, he’s sitting there complaining about her boyfriend. </p><p>“Grab a box if you want to talk,” Ingrid snaps, confirming his suspicion. </p><p>Felix is nothing if not a hard worker, and they get the cart loaded in double time. Ingrid gives him a slightly warmer look after that. Not smiling, exactly, but the amused exasperation that all three of them are very familiar with. </p><p>“What <em> exactly </em>is the issue?” </p><p>“He has this fool notion that I’m sitting around pining over Dimitri. I want him to stop,” Felix says, aware of how much it sounds like a whine and hating every second of it. </p><p>Ingrid looks at him like it’s the dumbest thing she’s ever heard. “Just tell him you <em> aren’t </em> and he’ll drop it. He’s only poking because you keep turning red and getting upset. You’re giving him what he wants.” </p><p>“I… can’t do that.” </p><p>“Why not?” </p><p>“He wouldn’t believe me.” Because it’s too obvious that Felix <em> does </em>care, and they all know how he shows his affection. Waspish remarks and constant criticism… but he'll go to the ends of the earth to be the one who's standing next to them and delivering it. </p><p>“It’s always been a little obvious,” Ingrid says, grinning. “Do you remember the first time the two of you fought? <em> Seriously </em>fought?” </p><p>Felix didn’t, and he had the distinct fear that he wasn’t going to like being reminded. </p><p>“We were six, maybe seven. Getting married came up as part of whatever silly game we were playing. You insisted on ‘marrying’ Dimitri, and he turned you down because he was saving himself for Glenn,” Ingrid says with a laugh. “He was always doing that sort of thing - we all thought the world of Glenn. You <em> never </em>got angry when we talked about him or chased after him, because you did, too. But that time…” </p><p>Felix remembers it now. It had blurred together with all the other childish outbursts, but now that Ingrid has mentioned it... “Right. I didn’t talk to him for a <em> week</em>. It was… dramatic.” </p><p>“You’ve always felt strongly about him, in particular. Then he disappeared. And like you always said… he could’ve told you what he was doing, but he didn’t. Until you found out in the worst possible way. It’s pretty natural for you to feel… conflicted.” </p><p>“That’s one way of putting it,” Felix agrees with a scowl. Half the time he still wanted to punch Dimitri for the abomination he’d tried to inflict upon Glenn’s soul. That was simple and easy enough to understand. The other half of the time... well, he's still working his way through <em>that</em>.</p><p>“Plus… After what he did… I mean, he has good days, but healing that kind of damage…” Ingrid trails off and just shrugs. They both know that alchemy can do a lot of things, but fixing broken minds is not one of them. </p><p>“It’s a fucking mess,” Felix says, as raw and honest as he knows how to be.</p><p>She’s shocked into a laugh. “Yeah. You can say that again.”  </p><p>Someone who didn’t know Felix might hug him, say that they’re so sorry, explain that they pity him. Ingrid <em> does </em>know Felix and does nothing of the sort. </p><p>“Well… we finished packing early. Spar?” </p><p>It’s a little transparent - Ingrid usually trains first thing in the morning, and today was no exception - but Felix still jumps at the chance to work out his frustrations. “You’re on. But we’d better move away from the camp.”  </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Dedue decides that they’ll take a different route out of Duscur - a mountain pass that almost never has any patrols. Much safer than testing the desert region that they used on their way in. It’s a good idea… one that immediately goes to shit the following morning, when they spot a company of Faerghan soldiers marching slowly towards them.</p><p>The pass has a single narrow road that’s already forcing them to walk single file. There’s nowhere else to go, and turning tail would look even more suspicious. They’ll just have to trust their mercenary disguises.</p><p>The soldiers are led by a tiny woman with orange hair, immediately identifiable as an alchemist based on her rank - and the fact that she’s casually carrying a giant hammer, which easily weighs more than she does, over one shoulder. Only an alchemist would chose to - and be capable of - wielding a ridiculous weapon like that. He doesn't recognize the circle carved onto the metal head of the weapon - it's a type of alchemy he's never encountered before.</p><p>“She didn’t take the State examination with us,” Ingrid says in a low voice. Ostensibly to all of them, but Dimitri is having one of his bad days, ignoring their conversation in favor of one with his ghosts.</p><p>“Took it two years after we did. She’s Annette Dominic. The Quake Alchemist,” Sylvain mutters. At least his desk job was good for something - he knows the name, appearance, and abilities of every State Alchemist.</p><p>“Uses the hammer to make earthquakes?” Felix guesses. The name is kind of a giveaway.</p><p>“Yeah - though I’ve never seen her in action. Not sure what kind of power we’d be dealing with.” Sylvain isn’t wearing his alchemy gloves - it would hardly fit with his disguise - but Felix sees his hands rooting through an inner pocket of his coat and knows he’s tensing to make a quick change if it comes to that.  </p><p>“Dominic… the same surname as the General in command of Arianrhod,” Ingrid says. Of course she knows the troop detachments and their current positions like the back of her hand. </p><p>“If we accept this conspiracy theory that Dimitri and my old man have… anyone with a rank that high is either in on it, or they were posted to the border to get them out of the way,” Felix muses. “So it’s entirely possible that <em> she </em>is in on it.” </p><p>It’s academic - it’s not like they’ve any intention of getting captured and finding out - but he <em> is </em> curious about who, exactly, told the alchemist to come to this particular place. They still need more insight into the exact extent and nature of the conspiracy. Surely it hasn't touched <em>literally </em>every officer in the military.</p><p>A few yards ahead of them, Dedue and Ashe are talking to Dominic. He has to hand it to them - they don’t look nervous, and it seems like the alchemist is buying their 'foreign merchants' cover story. She nods, and waves for her men to step back and let the caravan through. </p><p>So of course Dimitri picks that moment to trip over his own feet. (They can’t even blame the new madness for it, Felix thinks sourly - he’s always been a clumsy oaf). And of course, when he scrambles back up, the fall dislodged his mercenary’s mask and hood, baring his familiar features to a State Alchemist and her company of soldiers.</p><p>“That’s… That’s Bladiddyd!” someone shouts. </p><p>Dominic turns her sunny smile back to Dedue and Ashe, though… there’s an edge to it now, and she grips the hilt of her comically oversized hammer just a little more firmly. “I’m going to <em> assume </em>you didn’t know who he was, and didn’t try to sneak the most wanted man in Faerghus past a State Alchemist. That way, when you hand him over, everyone gets to walk away from this.” </p><p>“Once someone joins my caravan, they’re under my protection. I can’t just let him be executed,” Dedue tells her solemnly. “It’s a matter of honor.” </p><p>Felix itches to draw his sword and jump in, but restrains himself with an effort. He sees what the Duscurian chief is playing at: trying to get a little more information before they kill these men. But a State Alchemist wouldn’t casually discuss a prisoner’s fate with a total stranger, a Duscurian stranger to boot-</p><p>“Don’t worry,” she says cheerfully. “He’s wanted alive.”</p><p>Even Dimitri has the presence of mind to look shocked. Human transmutation is alchemy’s greatest sin - completely unforgivable. Felix himself had standing orders to eliminate anyone he came across who so much as dabbled in it. Someone high up in the government, powerful enough to overcome the taboo, wants Dimitri to avoid that fate. Why - because they want to know how to do it for themselves? It’s another mystery for their growing pile.  </p><p>Dedue shakes his head. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. He is still under my protection. I have an alternative proposal. Turn around and forget you ever saw us.” </p><p>Dominic frowns. “I seriously don’t want anyone to get hurt. Your three mercenaries have no hope of defeating a company of soldiers.”</p><p>“That would be true… if they were mercenaries.” And Dedue grabs Dimitri and pulls him abruptly out of the line of fire.</p><p>Showtime.</p><p>Ingrid steps into the crude circle she’d drawn with one boot while Dedue kept everyone talking. The wind starts howling a moment later, with enough force to lift several of the soldiers straight off their feet and over the edge of the cliff. They don’t even have time to scream, which is a small mercy. It can’t be a good way to go. </p><p>Felix already has his sword out and leaps straight at the company’s captain. The man’s just barely fast enough to get his bayonet up in time to block a fatal strike, but not agile enough to stop Felix from forcing him back to the edge of the cliff. He’s about to push the captain off to his death when he hears a shout from Dominic and, on instinct, flings himself back- </p><p>Her hammer hits the ground <em> hard</em>, and the resulting quake feels intense enough to level a small building. The area where he was standing a moment before splits off from the rest of the rock face, sending the captain tumbling into the abyss. Another few blows like that and the entire pass is in danger of crumbling into dust and killing all of them. Felix swallows.</p><p>“<em>Sylvain</em>!”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah.” Sylvain finishes pulling on his alchemist gloves, a smirk spreading over his face as he steps towards Dominic. “Y’know why they call me the Dark Alchemist?” </p><p>Ingrid manages to roll her eyes at the same time that she’s literally catching bullets in mind-air and spinning them back at the soldiers with expertly timed gusts of wind. Felix shares her sentiment, though he’s mostly just ducking for cover.</p><p>“It’s all about the visible spectrum,” Sylvain is saying. Dominic hits the ground again, but he steps casually out of the way, as if he walks right up to confront other alchemists every day of the week. “There’s a whole world of light and color out there that we just can’t see, ‘cause our eyes are so weak. When I was researching for the examination, I figured out how to open the infrared window, or do the opposite, and-”</p><p>He snaps his fingers. It’s not the most visually impressive alchemy Felix has ever seen. A simple cloud of inky, total-black darkness that rolls quickly over Dominic and her surviving soldiers, then hangs there like some sort of heavy fog. But the effect is immediate - preventing any light from entering the affected area. For all intents and purposes, they’re completely blind.</p><p>Someone takes an unseeing step over the edge of the cliff and <em> screams </em>all the way down. Ingrid, her face set in a grim mask, pushes the rest down to join him. Now it’s just Dominic standing there - unable to aim her powerful alchemy in any particular direction.</p><p>“<em>Finally</em>,” she says, throwing her hammer to the ground and setting her hands on her hips. “Was the whole speech really necessary? I’m guessing you don’t get in too many <em> real </em>fights.” </p><p>Sylvain blinks at her. “I, uh…” </p><p>“We don’t have much time before the next company shows up, but I’d better explain,” Dominic says. “Those men were from Fhirdiad - but High Command aren’t the only ones looking for Dimitri. My father and the other border generals want to keep him safe. Look, I know this is a lot to take in, but if you just let me take you to Gustave-”</p><p>“We can’t go to Arianrhod,” Dedue says tersely. He steps out from behind the rock barrier that Dimtiri had instantly transmuted to protect both of them, still holding a wicked-looking shotgun in one hand, though he hadn't even needed to fire it. “We’re going to Gwenhwyar.” </p><p>Something in his tone of voice makes Felix looks over. Then he sees the same thing, and starts to curse under his breath. A single bullet, one that Ingrid didn’t quite manage to catch in time, has buried itself in Ashe’s stomach. The kid looks… bad. Faces aren’t supposed to be that particular shade of green, and his breaths come in shallow gasps, like the effort of taking each one in is almost too much for his body to handle. </p><p>Sylvain snaps his fingers again to undo his alchemy. There’s no time to question Annette further; she just falls in with the rest of them as they rush to get the caravan moving. Though just before they set off, she does stick up her hand, like they’re kids in a classroom, and ask: “What’s in Gwenhwyar?” </p><p>“They say a miracle healer lives there. They call her the Angel Alchemist. I hope the stories are right - or Ashe is going to die,” Dedue says in a low voice.  </p><p>“Oh, if anything, the tales are underselling it,” Annette says, a smile right back on her face. “I’ve seen Mercie heal things you wouldn’t believe. I’ll introduce you!”</p><p>They move down the pass as quickly as they can, with Annette occasionally smashing through some obstacle to create a shortcut. Dimitri spends the whole journey in the cart, staring at Ashe with a faraway look on his face. Felix wonders if he’s waiting for another ghost to join the chorus.  </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The so-called Angel Alchemist, Mercedes von Martritz, is holed up in a shabby clinic on the edges of the city. If Felix didn’t know better, he’d have assumed it was the run-down practice of some unqualified local doctor - not the haunting grounds of a miracle healer. But that’s probably intentional - if she’s as good as Dedue thinks she is, the only reason she’s not in Fhirdiad is because she’s kept herself under the radar, avoiding the “suggestion” that she brings her skills into the State Alchemist program. </p><p>The fact that Annette seems to know so much about her and hasn’t turned her in, herself, does more than anything to reassure Felix of <em> her </em> intentions. Maybe this quest isn’t as hopeless as it seems. If they can trust Annette, they can <em> probably </em>trust General Gustave Dominic, and maybe, just maybe, the other border divisions… </p><p>But first things first. </p><p>Mercedes examines Ashe quickly and expertly, her face stern. “How did this happen?” </p><p>Dimitri clears his throat. His face is pale, but at least he’s <em> here</em>, the reality of Ashe’s near-death shocking him into some coherence. “He was shot while fighting to protect me. They would have taken me to Fhirdiad.” </p><p>The healer’s eyes travel up and down, obviously recognizing him at once. When she speaks again, Felix initially thinks she might be mad, herself, because the words don’t seem to have anything to do with the situation they’re in: </p><p>“There’s no such thing as healing alchemy, you know. It’s a contradiction in terms. <em> To obtain anything, something of equal value must be lost.</em>” </p><p>Dimitri gets it faster than the rest of them, his head bowing. “You’ve learned how to use raw life force to mend wounds. Following the principles of human transmutation without, er, committing the crime itself.” </p><p>Mercedes nods. “For minor wounds, the patient’s own life force will suffice, with no harm done. For something like this… I can fix him, but the amount required is enough to take <em> years </em>off his life.” </p><p>“Or <em> someone’s </em> life,” Sylvain says. “Your own - in theory.” </p><p>She treats him to a small, sad smile that says more than her words ever could. And Felix wonders how many years Mercedes has taken off her own life, how many sacrifices she made, to earn that Angel title. </p><p>“It’s my fault that this happened,” Dimitri says, before Ingrid or Felix can shout him down. “Please use <em> my </em>life force to heal him.” </p><p>Mercedes fixes a level gaze on him. “You’re the heir to rule this nation. Would you really sacrifice years of your own reign for one soldier?” </p><p>“Yes,” he says, without hesitation. “That’s the kind of ruler I would like to be.”  </p><p>“Well, that’s reassuring,” Mercedes says sweetly. “Though I’m happy to say that won’t be necessary in this case. I should be able to remove the bullet and treat him with conventional antibiotics.” </p><p>All the alchemists blink at her in turn. Ingrid is the first to recover her words, faintly outraged: “You were <em> testing </em>him?” </p><p>“Yes,” the healer replies, already rolling up her sleeves to begin Ashe’s surgery. “I won’t apologize. Someone who has committed the ultimate taboo… I had to see for myself that he hadn’t done it for the wrong reasons. Most of them do.”</p><p>“What do you mean, <em> most</em>?” There’s a story there - not many people casually reference knowing <em>multiple </em>people who've attempted human transmutation.</p><p>“We’ll talk <em> after </em>I save this man’s life,” Mercedes says, not even looking at Felix. They take the hint, and leave her to her work. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It turns out that Mercedes didn’t always stay under the radar. In fact, her running this clinic in a small border city is a very recent development. </p><p>“I was certified the year before you three. After that, I was assigned to be a researcher in High Command,” she explains the following morning. Ashe is resting peacefully after a successful surgery, and Mercedes sends word for them to come get him in the pre-dawn hours, before her regular patients can stumble onto the band of fugitives. “I learned to ‘heal’ more or less by accident - by applying the principles that we were studying in the laboratory.” </p><p>“What laboratory? What were you studying?” Felix asks, his eyes narrowing. There's clearly a lot more to this woman's past than she lets on. </p><p>“It was a top-secret facility that only a few people ever knew about. Supposedly, even Lambert himself was unaware of its existence.”</p><p>Felix meets Dimitri’s eyes and sees the certainty in them: this laboratory is part of what he’s been talking about. Part of the conspiracy. By the time Lambert <em> did </em> find out what his country was doing - or hell, <em> because </em>he found out - he was assassinated.  </p><p>Mercedes sighs and continues. “Our research had one goal: breaking through the barriers of what was previously thought impossible.” </p><p>Sylvain narrows his eyes. “Wait… was High Command attempting to create a Philosopher’s Stone? Even for them, that’s… That’s crazy.” </p><p>“They didn’t <em> attempt </em>it. They succeeded,” Mercedes says. The hands holding her teacup are shaking and she isn’t meeting their eyes. “But the Stone isn’t what it’s fabled to be. It doesn’t bypass equivalent exchange at all, it’s just… a container. Something that stores up extra power for alchemists to burn through.” </p><p>“What do you mean, ‘a container?’” Dedue’s eyes move between the alchemists, not following the conversation one bit. </p><p>Dimitri, again, is the first one to connect all of the dots. Felix thinks that it must be due to his own studies of human transmutation, whatever sick shit he had to do in order to try to bring Glenn back to life. His breath catches and he blurts: “It’s made of human souls. They sacrificed - <em> people</em>?”</p><p>“Duscur was the breakthrough,” Mercedes says, her mouth twisted into a bitter line. “All that death, all at once… it was arranged, intentionally, so that he could test his theory. Create the first Stone. After that, additional Stones were easy. Our lab was right next to a prison - an endless source of the human material he needed.” </p><p>“Who is <em> he</em>?” Dimitri demands.</p><p>Mercedes sighs again before she looks him in the eyes and says: “The Philosopher's Stone Project director was… your uncle. Lord Volkhard von Arundel.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>* Dun dun dun! (OK, I'm pretty sure everyone saw Thales' involvement in the conspiracy coming, though our characters didn't). There's more to Mercedes' story but I feel like that's a fun place to leave it for now. </p><p>* I couldn't help but poke a little fun at anime fights and their long monologues here. It's OK, Sylvain can take it. </p><p>* It's been a while compared to my usual pace, but I have nothing written in advance this time! I didn't promise any particular upload schedule and that will definitely continue going forward. I'm also not sure of the total length of this project, but it definitely won't be the monster that Deer Without a Heart or the Star Wars AU were. I'm thinking ~10 chapters of about this length.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Invidia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two people sharing the same delusion might be explained away - especially when those two are a recently insane Dimitri and the Duke who is more loyal to the country’s heir than to his own flesh and blood, Felix thinks, not preventing his thoughts from their usual bitter twist when it comes to his old man.</p><p>Annette Dominic and General Gustave Dominic speaking of the same conspiracy still hadn’t <em> fully </em>convinced him. Maybe the General just wants to start a coup - it isn’t the first time the border armies, the ones who actually have to carry out the day-to-day fighting against Faerghus’ many enemies, have felt neglected by High Command. Dimitri would be an invaluable bargaining chip in any regime change. </p><p>But when Mercedes, who has absolutely nothing to gain and everything to lose, tells them that it goes all the way up to Arundel, Dimitri’s maternal uncle and current head of High Command’s Council of Regents… Felix starts to believe, <em> really </em>believe, that this whole country’s been played for fools.</p><p>Dimitri’s hands clench and unclench slowly, as if he’s imagining Arundel’s neck between them. “Explain,” he growls. </p><p>“On paper, I work in the official research laboratory. But that’s a sideshow. A select few of us were chosen for the <em> real </em>research, taken to a facility underneath the building. We were set to work on the Philosopher’s Stone… and on creating chimeras, whenever we could spare the time.” </p><p>Chimeras - a fusion of two or more animals into a single entity. It wasn’t as forbidden as human transmutation, but there was really only one reason to use it. Arundel wanted to build himself an army of monsters. </p><p>“How long has this been happening?” Sylvain asks. </p><p>Mercedes shakes her head. “They didn’t exactly give us all the details. But I have my own theories. The place was <em> old </em>- the struts supporting it weren’t even made of steel, but of stone. It’s as if it was built before modern construction techniques.” </p><p>“That’s insane,” Ingrid whispers. “That would mean…” </p><p>“That this whole country is a sham?” Felix sneers. How ironic - Rodrigue is so willing to set his life on the line for <em> patriotism</em>, when Faerghus had never been something worth defending. “Why not? If Philosopher's Stones really exist, why not their ability to bestow immortality? Someone’s been playing us - all of us - for hundreds of years.” </p><p>Mercedes nods at him. “That’s my suspicion. I didn’t see Arundel himself very often, but he had three direct subordinates, and at least one of them was always watching us. They clearly weren’t from High Command or the State Alchemist program. I suspect they weren’t even <em> human </em> - I once overheard the old man, Solon, speaking about ‘humans’ the way you or I would talk about a pet dog.” </p><p>“There is no way they would let you learn this much and then escape. They needed human alchemists for some purpose, but you would have been held there as prisoners,” Dedue says. He doesn’t <em> sound </em>suspicious, but it’s written in his face as he looks at her. “How did you get away?”</p><p>She sighs. “You’re right to question it. They picked us because each of us had at least some family. A brother, in my case. It was made <em> very </em>clear what would happen to him if I so much as thought of leaving the lab without their permission.”</p><p>“So what changed?” the Duscur chief asks softly. </p><p>“One day, Solon informed me that they’d found another use for Emile. He said… something like, ‘he’s a strong warrior. Maybe strong enough to survive the procedure.’” Mercedes’ hands twist her skirt into knots. “I never found out what he meant, but whatever it was, Emile didn’t survive. They forced me to dispose of his body myself.”</p><p>“I am sorry,” Dedue says solemnly. They all pretend not to notice as she weeps. </p><p>“I don’t get it,” Sylvain says in a low voice. “Why get rid of the guarantee that she wouldn’t try anything?” </p><p>“Arrogance,” Ingrid guesses. “They thought she was weak, and that losing her brother would break her will completely. They underestimated her.”</p><p>It checks out to Felix. If they’re truly dealing with an enemy of immortals, humans must seem like animals in comparison. He certainly didn’t concern himself with the opinions of the wolves when he was deciding where to camp for the night. </p><p>Dimitri waits for Mercedes to compose herself - and for Annette to fetch her a cup of tea - before he resumes questioning her. “Would you be able to take us to this lab? I believe your story - but if we are to rally the people of Faerghus against Arundel and his kind, we need more direct evidence.” </p><p>Annette scowls at him, hands on hips, and Felix is somewhat bemused at the sight of this tiny woman taking on the future leader of the country. “Your first thought after hearing all that is to ask her to go <em> back </em>? You oversized jerk-!” </p><p>“It’s alright, Annie,” Mercedes says, silencing her friend with a hand on her shoulder. “I always knew I’d have to go back one day.” </p><p>“Well, <em> I’m </em> not letting you go off with <em> them </em> all by yourself. And my father ordered me to protect Dimitri - even if he <em> is </em>a jerk. Count me in!” </p><p>“I was hoping you’d say that,” Mercedes says, with something of a gleam in her eyes. “Once we have the evidence, you can use Crusher to bury that abomination of a lab for good.”    </p><p><em> She named the hammer</em>? Felix thinks, as Annette cackles and rubs her hands together. Well, she might not look like much, but he’s definitely starting to like the Quake Alchemist’s style. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Dedue and Ashe rustled up two more mercenary outfits before they left the town. And while Ashe was recovering from his injury and stuck in bed, he revealed that he wasn’t a bad forger. He was able to take Annette’s official Alchemist passcard and modify it to one that granted merchant caravans passage through any Faerghan checkpoints. </p><p>“Where’d you learn to do all that?” Felix had asked, impressed despite himself. It was a damn good forgery, almost identical to the real cards. </p><p>Ashe’s ears had turned red. “Oh, well, before I joined the military I was… in another line of work. Slightly less reputable, but hey, I wasn’t killing anyone.” </p><p>Felix had already noticed the lockpicks that Ashe carried on his belt, and read between the lines. He’d clearly been a thief with some involvement in the wider criminal underworld. Well, it wasn’t like they had any room to talk - they were <em> all </em>fugitives now. </p><p>The trek to Fhirdiad is going well now, though. Between their disguises and the fake pass-card, they’re breezing through all of the checkpoints. They’re well past Gideon, approaching the Tailtean Plains, and still haven’t run into any State Alchemists, suggesting that Dominic somehow had better intel on their location than High Command. </p><p>Felix asks Annette about it when they draw the first watch that night. </p><p>“How did your father know where to find us?” </p><p>“He didn’t <em> know</em>, exactly. But he was very loyal to Lambert and knew Dimitri pretty well before the, you know…” Annette waves a hand, giving him a guilty look, as if he’s so soft that the mere reminder of Glenn’s death will cause him to burst into tears.</p><p>Felix grinds his teeth together, but tries to keep the bite out of his voice. “Before Duscur.” </p><p>“Yes, that! Well, my father knew that Lambert’s efforts to secure a peace treaty were unpopular in High Command, and immediately suspected foul play. He’s not very subtle, though,” she said, with a fond roll of her eyes. “They must’ve noticed him barging around demanding answers, and transferred him to the Western Command before he could stumble across the truth. My father said he tried to find and warn Dimitri before he left Fhirdiad, but nobody knew where he’d gone...”</p><p>Felix nodded. Dimitri said that he hadn’t stayed in the capital for long before slipping his captors (ostensibly, his guards) and embarking on his years-long quest to learn human transmutation. It was just their luck that he’d dropped off the radar of both his enemies and his few remaining friends.</p><p>“If I was the General, I’d assume they had him prisoner, or had disposed of him. Either way, there’d be nothing I could do.” </p><p>Annette nods, a little frown on her face. “He felt helpless and blamed himself. Those weren’t good years… But, shortly after I passed the State Examination and came back to Arianrhod, the warrants for <em> your </em>arrest went out. My father figured that the three of you, traveling with an unnamed rouge alchemist, could only mean one thing. And he remembered that Dimitri had passionately defended the Duscurians, so he figured you’d head there - either to hide out, or to gain some allies.”</p><p>That explained it. The conspirators hadn’t <em> known </em>Dimitri the way Gustave had; and to them, Duscur had just been a means to an end. Now that they’d manipulated events into killing enough people to make the Stone, the surviving Duscurians were irrelevant - beneath their notice.</p><p>“How sure is he that the other border generals will support Dimitri?” Felix asks. His own father had spoken highly of General Dominic, a practical and careful commander. He’s not the type to indulge in wishful thinking. </p><p>“Oh, well, he’s been in contact with General Charon at the southern border. Cassandra’s father is a close friend of his. They managed to meet every few months - which was great, because <em> I </em>got to train with the Thunder Alchemist herself!” </p><p>Annette puffs her chest out proudly, and Felix thinks that her ‘smash everything in sight’ style of fighting makes a little more sense now. He knows Cassandra Charon by reputation; she’s a fearsome alchemist, powerful enough to single-handedly deter Adrestia from trying anything funny at the border. </p><p>“And I mean, considering Duke Fraldarius is the head of Eastern Command and Sylvain’s brother is in charge of Northern Command…” </p><p>Felix shakes his head. “We can count on my old man - as annoying as it’ll be to go to him for help - but Miklan Gautier? There’s no <em> way</em>.” </p><p>Annette looks confused - she clearly hasn’t heard about Sylvain and Miklan’s relationship. Most people haven’t; the Gautiers are a powerful enough family to keep it all hushed up. Felix only knows the truth because he’s such good friends with Sylvain. After the Margrave found out that Miklan had pushed Sylvain into a well and left him there for an entire day, he’d bought Miklan a commission and sent him to pseudo-exile in the northern army. </p><p>And now Miklan was a general. Had he used more of his father’s wealth to bribe his way up the ranks? Or were sadistic bastards with a violent streak exactly the type that the army wanted to promote to high rank? Either way, it didn’t bode well. </p><p>“Well, my father says that all four border armies barely match the strength of the central army,” Annette says hesitantly. “Without General Gautier on our side, attacking Fhirdiad would be…” </p><p>“Suicide. I <em> know</em>. But we can’t - we can’t put that on Sylvain,” Felix says, knowing he isn’t really making any sense. He’s not interested in discussing Sylvain’s secrets without his friend’s permission, though. </p><p>“Well,” she says, laughing uneasily, “we’re getting ahead of ourselves. We need to get in and out of this secret lab in one piece, first!” </p><p>Dedue and Mercedes relieve them soon after that. Felix collapses onto his cot, weary, but suddenly unable to sleep. He knows Gustave is right - the coup they’re talking about will only work with Northern Command firmly on their side, but damn it all, the idea of having to cut a deal with the abuser who terrified Sylvain’s entire childhood… </p><p>Maybe they can arrange for an accident. The second-in-command might be less of a piece of shit. He’s comforted enough by the thought to finally drift off; he dreams of running his sword through Miklan’s belly. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Felix doesn’t talk to either Dedue or Dimitri much. Questioning the extent of their previous relationship would make him feel like a jealous child. He tells himself that Dimitri doesn’t owe him any explanation. It had hardly been a grand romance; they’d been fumbling pre-teens that stumbled into becoming each others’ first kiss, a few days before Dimitri was to leave for Duscur.</p><p>In a way, he’d never really come back. And nothing would ever be the same. </p><p>But he wasn’t as subtle as he thought - or maybe Sylvain was telling tales - because Dedue arranged for them to take the first watch the following night, and wasted little time in broaching the subject.</p><p>“It’s not like that between us,” he said. His tone is relaxed, as if he’s continuing a conversation they’d already started instead of dropping that information out of nowhere.</p><p>Felix almost drops the whetstone he’s using to sharpen his primary sword. “What?” </p><p>“Dimitri and I,” Dedue says patiently. “I owe him a great deal; I trust that he will make amends to Duscur when he comes to rule Faerghus; and I also love him - like I would a brother.”</p><p>“I know you do,” Felix mutters. “You’ve risked a great deal to help him so far…” </p><p>“Yet you do not seem to like me very much. At first, I thought you might still blame me in some way for the death of your brother. Then Sylvain suggested that you had another problem.” </p><p>The alchemist grinds his teeth together. Of course it was Sylvain - was nothing sacred with that fool? “I don’t know what he told you, but Dimitri and I… There’s nothing going on.” </p><p>Dedue shrugs. “He implied that there used to be, and that you might want it to happen once more. That is none of my business, however. I simply wanted to make my position clear.”</p><p>Felix wishes his skin wasn’t so pale. The firelight alone is probably enough for Dedue to see his face burning. “Right, well… I think we’re on the same page.” </p><p>“Excellent,” Dedue says. He clears his throat, seeming just as happy to no longer be talking about <em> that </em>particular topic. “I have been wondering. Why do you fight with a sword? It seems to be a distinct disadvantage in the modern age.” </p><p>Now <em> this </em>is a topic Felix is much more eager to discuss. “It’s true that there’s nothing more efficient than a gun in combat - when you’re not an alchemist. But I want to have a weapon that I can adapt to my needs.” </p><p>He shows Dedue the transmutation circle carved into the metal of his sword. With a slight effort of will, the blade disassembles itself and reassembles, a moment later, into a squat rectangle, a quick and dirty shield. Then he creates a long and thin device that resembles a spear. His final trick is a blade that twists and turns like a serpent, jumping out from its hilt at a 90 degree angle and stopping an inch from Dedue’s neck. </p><p>Dedue is grinning, ever so slightly. “I see. Consider me impressed.” </p><p>“I’m good,” Felix says. It’s a little arrogant to come out and say it like that, but it’s honest, which is all he knows how to be. “But my brother was a prodigy. He used <em> two </em>swords, and his imagination seemed to have no limit.” </p><p>“And then... Duscur.” </p><p>“Yeah.” Something in Dedue’s tone leads Felix to say (not <em> ask</em>, but make the statement of fact): “You had a family. Before. Tell me about them.”</p><p>Dedue talks. It’s the most Felix has ever heard at one time from the normally stoic man, but it’s a topic near to his heart. A hard-working blacksmith father, plying his trade at one of the border towns and never rising to the bait of racist Faerghan hecklers. A gentle mother who was an excellent cook; Dedue, who as odd as it seemed <em> had </em>once been a small child, learning old family recipes almost as soon as he could walk. A brother and sister, both younger than he was, with so much potential stretching ahead of them - until Faerghan soldiers put a premature end to those young lives. </p><p>“... The members of this conspiracy have much to answer for,” Dedue says eventually. A clear signal that he’s done discussing that particular topic. </p><p>Felix shakes his head. “They pushed us into it, but - hell. How much of a push did Faerghus even need? Shouldn’t you <em> hate </em> us?” </p><p>Dedue eyes him levelly. “Hatred was how they manipulated<em> you</em> so easily. Someone must take the first step back to put an end to this cycle of revenge. But make no mistake - Duscur <em> will </em>be returned to its people, or Faerghus will come to regret it.” </p><p>Felix just nods. It’s easy to see why Dedue became the chieftain, as young as he is. Peace is an attractive idea - but he also has the steel in his spine to do whatever it takes to get it. </p><p>They don’t say anything else until Ashe and Ingrid come to relieve them; but it’s a much more comfortable and respectful silence now. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Their caravan reaches Fhirdiad the following morning. Felix keeps expecting every checkpoint to be the one that finally sees through the forged pass; his hand twitches on the hilt of his sword - but then they’re waved through by a bored-looking guard, and spill into the bustling streets of the Faerghan capital. </p><p>By previous agreement, they all split up. Dedue and Ashe do genuinely have some goods to sell in the market, just in case any soldiers are keeping track. Sylvain and Ingrid go with them to stand on either side of the stall, a silent warning to any sticky-fingered thieves. The remaining four negotiate for rooms in a small boarding house that just happens to be very close to the national research laboratory…</p><p>Then they wait. And it’s a long wait. Dimitri’s in no state to talk, while Felix and Annette are both too wound-up to start a conversation. (It expresses itself in different ways, with Felix running a whetstone over his sword, silent as the grave, while Annette sings nervously under her breath). Mercedes sits with her eyes closed, as if praying - or meditating. </p><p>Eventually, night falls. And Mercedes can finally lead them into the laboratory. Heavy chains secure the front gate, but Dimitri steps forward and claps his hands. The chains are gone the moment he touches them, instantly transmuted into rust and crumbling away. </p><p>“I don’t expect they’ll have changed the locks,” Mercedes whispers, producing a key from a pocket of her robes. “They’re arrogant, and one escape won’t be any threat to them… Ah yes, here we are.” </p><p>The door swings back, smooth and silent. Mercedes confidently leads them through the lab, which is luckily empty. Even being <em> here </em>without permission would get them a severe punishment, and that’s just the public-facing front. Another key gets them into what looks like a supply closet but is really the opening to a set of crude, stone stairs, descending down and down until they lose sight of the path.</p><p>Sylvain makes a quick transmutation that leaves his gloves glowing with a soft, white light - enough for them to see where they’re going, <em> hopefully </em>not enough to get them spotted before they’re ready. And then they descend.   </p><p>It’s a tense and silent climb down, but their luck holds. The conspirators seem confident in the dual layer of protection - the false lab’s locks and the hidden passage - because the door into the <em> real </em>lab isn’t even locked. Mercedes gently pushes it open, and they step inside. </p><p>The smell that assails Felix’s nostrils is all-too-familiar. It reminds him of the cottage the night that he found Dimitri’s crude attempt at human transmutation. From the dismayed look on Dimtiri’s face, he’s not the only one to draw the comparison. </p><p>Sylvain lifts one of his gloves a little higher and winces at the immediate sight of a transmutation circle, its chalk lines broken by splatters of blood. “Nice place you have here…” </p><p>Ingrid starts and tugs at Sylvain’s sleeve until he follows her. The alchemical light illuminates a large map on one wall of the room - a map of Faerghus, overlaid with the familiar five-pointed alchemical circle. One of the points stands at the border of Duscur. The other four…</p><p>“Arianrhod, the southern border with Adrestia, Fraldarius territory, and… the northern fortress facing Sreng,” she whispers. “The exact positions of our four border armies.” </p><p>Annette taps the center of the circle. “Fhirdiad… and I have a feeling <em> this </em>lab, here, is the exact center of the circle. According to this map, the entire country is being used as one giant transmutation experiment! But why?”</p><p>“<em>Human </em>transmutation, specifically,” Dimitri says, touching a finger to one of the symbols on the outside of the circle.</p><p>Felix scowls as the realization hits him. “Mercedes said that Duscur was the start. What the hell happens when war breaks out at the other four points?” </p><p>“Wouldn’t <em> you </em> like to know?” </p><p>They all flinch to look at Mercedes, because… the voice she spoke with was not her own. It’s a good deal lower and much less soft. Before their eyes, her whole appearance <em> changes</em>. The tall and gentle healer is replaced like a snake shedding its skin, until a smaller red-haired girl stands there, hands on hips and a smirk on her face. </p><p>“Oi, Pride!” she shouts at the top of her voice. “I’ve brought presents!” </p><p>All the lights in the secret lab switch on at once, temporarily blinding them. By the time they’ve blinked the spots out of their eyes, they’re no longer alone. The <em> thing </em> pretending to be Mercedes has skittered to the other side of the room, where… a door opens to show the <em> real </em> Mercedes, tied roughly to a chair and blinking at them with horror in her eyes.  </p><p>Annette wails. “Oh, Mercie… I should’ve known!” </p><p>“You humans never do,” the redhead purrs. She pushes Mercedes’ head up and flicks a knife into her hand. “So stupid. So obsessed with what things <em> look </em>like. I had you eating out of my hand this whole time!” </p><p>“That’s enough, Envy,” someone says from behind them. Felix recognizes him at once - Lord Arundel, the regent, though… given that the imposter called him <em> Pride</em>, it’s pretty clear they’re no longer dealing with humans. Arundel is flanked by two more people he doesn’t recognize; an emancipated old man leaning heavily on a walking stick, and a middle-aged woman who’s dressed like she came straight from a high society dance, her low-cut dress showing off some sort of tattoo on her chest. </p><p>Arundel addresses Dimitri like no-one else in the room matters. “Welcome, young Blaiddyd. I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to bring you here alive, so I hope we can-” </p><p>Dimitri snarls and slams his hands together, but before he can muster whatever attack he has planned, there’s a scream from behind him. Envy’s knife is at the real Mercedes’ throat, a thin red line of blood marking the first cut. The woman’s gag was removed solely so they could hear her pain - <em> those monsters</em>! </p><p>“That was just a warning. Her jugular is next,” Envy jeers. </p><p>“I suggest you cooperate, boy,” Arundel says with a little shrug. “That woman - indeed, all of your companions - mean nothing to me. If you push me, I’ll kill them all where they stand.” </p><p>Felix can’t tell what nature of power Arundel - Pride - possesses, but he speaks with the easy confidence of someone who <em> knows </em>that he’s in no danger at all. This is clearly no idle boast. He swallows, trying to force his hand to stop trembling on the hilt of his sword. </p><p>“Don’t listen to him,” Ingrid urges. “We can fight-” </p><p>“No.” Slowly, reluctantly, Dimitri pries his hands apart, the power of the seal breaking as he does. The thrum of power fades away. “I won’t sacrifice you to get my revenge. If I do that, I’ve learned nothing at all.” </p><p>“Smart boy,” Arundel says, then snaps his fingers. “Lust, Gluttony - take all of our <em> guests </em> into the audience chamber. It appears we have much to discuss.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Another cliffhanger! Kind of rude of me, but I can't help myself, they're too good. Don't worry, I'm sure everyone will be fine...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Luxuria</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arundel’s audience chamber is a clear mockery of the Faerghan palace in the city above. Felix knows, because he spent time in the real thing as a child, playing in the background as Lambert and his father took petitioners and conducted other state business. Arundel has replicated the throne down to the exact detail, as if this is all a big joke to him. </p><p>Let the humans have their delusions - here, below the earth, sits the real ruler of the nation.</p><p>Felix glances about and notes a variety of potential weapons. The room is filled with machinery that he’s never seen before - presumably some advanced tech that Arundel’s people kept out of human hands. They took his sword, but Dimitri could easily fashion him another with that instantaneous transmutation of his…</p><p>He tries to meet Dimitri’s eye, but sees no fire in it. Dimitri gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head, his eye flicking backwards. Felix twists a little and sees Envy and her knife, now at Sylvain’s throat instead of Mercedes’. </p><p>The red-haired girl smirks at him. “Go on, try something. I’m getting bored.”</p><p>Felix grinds his teeth, clenches his fists in impotent rage. In all honesty, he might’ve risked it with someone he didn’t know… but he’s not going to play around with Sylvain, and their enemies know it. </p><p>“Oh please. Surely we can have a civilized conversation.” Arundel smooths down the front of his formal suit and tie. He’s dressed the way he always is in the propaganda reels, but now that Felix knows the truth, it feels a little off. A little fake. Something that isn’t entirely human play-acting at being one.  </p><p>“What’s the catch?” Sylvain asks, sounding as carefree as one can pretend to be with a knife at their neck. “There’s no way you’ll spill your whole secret plan and let us walk out afterwards.” </p><p>“On the contrary. I need you to understand the situation - so that you can all play the roles I have in mind for you.” Arundel steeples his fingers and looks between eight of them, making no effort to conceal his contempt. “You humans are such pathetic creatures... yet I do have some use for you, for now.” </p><p>Dimitri swallows hard before lifting his head to stare at the figure on the throne. “Lord Arundel-” </p><p>“My true name is Pride. Use it.” </p><p>“Very well,” Dimitri says with only a moment’s hesitation. “Pride. Why is it that you ordered me taken in alive? I presume it’s connected to your plans for this country, the human transmutation circle…” </p><p>“Yes, it is. Have you ever heard the tale of King Nemesis?” </p><p>It’s Annette who answers, sounding like an eager kid in school. Felix supposes she’s reacting to the stress of the situation by focusing on the facts. “A myth, a legend. The last King of Nabatea, who ruled it during its Golden Age - until it suddenly disappeared.”</p><p>“This particular legend has a grain of truth to it,” Pride says. “Nemesis was the first alchemist to dare to defy the boundary of life and death. The first to see the Truth. With his new knowledge, he created me and a few others. We are homunculi - immortal beings with Philosopher’s Stones at our core.”  </p><p>“Artificial humans. You're a copy,” Felix scowls. </p><p>Pride regards him levely, the whole room still and silent as they wait for Felix to be punished. Eventually, Pride just shrugs. “Creations that <em> quickly </em>surpassed their creator. We are to humans as humans are to insects, boy.” </p><p>Felix opens his mouth to hurl more insults, but Dimitri steps on his foot. A warning, and not a subtle one. They can feel the power roiling off Pride - it makes sense, if there’s a whole Stone inside of him, he’ll be capable of things they can’t imagine or hope to match. </p><p>If they’re going to die anyway, Felix is reluctant to go down without a fight... but he complies, for the moment. </p><p>“Uh, Pride, sir?” Annette again, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Is it true that Nabatea was destroyed by its own alchemy?” </p><p>Pride <em> smiles</em>, and it’s far more unsettling than when he wasn’t. It’s too wide and shows off too many sharpened teeth. “Nemesis, like all humans, was never content. He sacrificed more and more of his subjects, always wanting more power. Finally, he conducted a ritual that was intended to consume every living soul in Nabatea - pouring their life into him and making him immortal.” </p><p>“It didn’t work,” Annette guesses.</p><p>“Not for <em> him</em>. For us, it was exactly as planned. Every mortal was killed - including Nemesis - and our Stones were filled with the souls of millions, increasing our power a hundredfold.” </p><p>“Oh <em> fuck</em>,” Ashe says. The swear’s so unexpected that Felix can’t help but look at him. The former thief’s face is pale and drawn. “You’re going to do the same thing to Faerghus!” </p><p>“There’s got to be a catch. Why stop with the death of one nation a thousand years ago? If humans are such insects, why not crush the entire world and have done?” Sylvain points out. </p><p>Pride’s smile falters somewhat. “Regrettably, there are… conditions… that we cannot meet on our own.” </p><p>“You need a human alchemist. One who’s willingly broken the taboo,” Dimitri realizes. “That’s the reason you wanted me alive. Well - if you think I’ll help you slaughter millions of people, you’re sadly mistaken, Pride.”  </p><p>“Am I?” The <em> thing </em>on the throne gestures languidly with one hand. “Gluttony, you can consume the other seven. They’re nothing to me.” </p><p>The old man sneers and lifts his cane, slamming it into the floor. His human-like form begins to shift and change… something akin to a black hole rising out of the center of his stomach. Felix can feel the power of it, the <em> hunger </em>. It will easily consume everything in this room if Gluttony is allowed to continue.</p><p>He shuts his eyes. The choice between seven and millions is easy. Simple math. The others must agree; by silent agreement, they stay quiet, not making this choice any harder than it already is-</p><p>“Wait!” Dimitri cries, and Felix curses under his breath. Of course. Dimitri’s changed a lot over the years, but not <em> that </em> much. He’ll never sacrifice his friends, even if he damn well <em> should</em>. </p><p>“Dimitri, don’t. We’re not worth it,” Sylvain says, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence. “Damnit…”  </p><p>“I’m sorry, my friend. I won’t let you die. As long as you’re still alive, still with me, we can figure something out.” </p><p>The one called Lust laughs. Felix supposes she’s going for ‘sultry,’ but it does nothing for him. “What an <em> adorable </em> little boy.” </p><p>“Weak,” Envy agrees. “Sentimental. I suppose that’s why humans will always lose.” </p><p>“Perhaps,” Dimitri says. He turns away from them and faces Pride, squaring his shoulders and standing with the confidence of the dictator’s heir. Felix is struck by it again, the same way he was when Dimitri addressed the Duscurian assembly. Mad or not, the rightful ruler of Faerghus is still in there, somewhere. </p><p>“What would you have me do?” </p><p>Pride smiles that predator’s smile again. “The ritual will take time to prepare. In the meantime, we must ensure we are not interrupted. Envy tells me that the rabble at our borders grow… discontented.” </p><p>Annette shifts from one foot to the other, a stricken look on her face. She couldn’t have known she was babbling about a coup attempt in front of one of the members of the conspiracy, one of the homunculi, but all the same, she’d given the whole game away. </p><p>“This is good,” Pride continues. “We need deaths to power the initial ritual; so we will kill two birds with one stone. Gautier, Fraldarius, Dominic, and the Duscurian - you will travel to each of the armies and tell them whatever they need to hear to join the coup. Envy and Lust will join you to ensure my will is done.” </p><p>Felix’s mind is already racing. Three alchemists, and Dedue can handle himself in a fight. Surely there will be some way for them to kill the two homunculi and get away. But first, he needs to know more about what Envy and Lust’s exact powers might be… </p><p>“I want the four armies to coordinate and attack Fhirdiad by the end of the month. Slaughtering them all will provide <em> excellent </em> fuel.”</p><p>“You monster,” Dimitri growls.</p><p>Pride simply shrugs. “I would have sacrificed them regardless. The entire purpose of the Faerghan army has been to fight and die at the five points of the circle, preparing the way for the rest of the ritual.”</p><p>“What about the others? I will not comply if they are harmed!”  </p><p>“They’ll remain here and work with the research team. I have no reason to waste their talents by killing them - as long as you, and the others continue to obey my orders.” </p><p>Sylvain and Ingrid stare at each other, both too proud to show their grief and dismay in front of their enemies. Felix can guess how they’re feeling, though. He’s ill-inclined to leave the person <em> he </em>loves as a hostage in Pride’s tender care. </p><p>And… shit. When did he start admitting that, even to himself? It must be the adrenaline talking.</p><p>Dimitri sighs and looks at the rest of them, though it’s Felix whose eyes he takes special care to meet. “You must think me a coward. Unwilling to do what needs to be done. Undermining your courage with my weakness. I’m sorry, but I simply couldn’t allow it.”</p><p>“Stop beating yourself up,” Felix growls. “Just… don’t you <em> dare </em> give in! They haven’t won until you perform the ritual.” </p><p>“This is cute. I’m going to vomit,” Envy sneers. Red light flairs briefly as she shifts forms, and then another Dimitri is standing next to the real Dimitri. The fake one looks a lot better put-together, though, with his hair tied up instead of falling into his face; and he’s wearing the formal military uniform one would expect from Lambert’s son. </p><p><em> Data point one. The clothes change with her</em>. </p><p>“Come on. We don’t have all day.” </p><p>Felix doesn’t look back as Fake Dimitri leads them out of the underground lair. Looking back would be as good as telling them the real Dimitri is his weakness. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Envy decides that they’ll go to Arianrhod first. It took them several days to walk from the western border to the capital, but their return journey will take only a few hours by train. There’s some murmuring as the thing that looks like Dimitri climbs into the first class carriage, but the people that recognize Faerghus’ next dictator know better than to disturb him - not to mention the three State Alchemists and physically imposing Duscurian. </p><p>Before they can follow the two homunculi into the carriage, Felix grabs Sylvain by the collar and pulls him aside. </p><p>“Hey - what-” </p><p>“We don’t have much time,” Felix hisses into his ear, glancing over at the schedule. </p><p>Two minutes before the train departs. Envy and Lust haven’t bothered to come yell at them to get on - they don’t need to. The threat of what happens if they <em> don’t </em>cooperate is Dimitri and Ingrid (and, he supposes, Ashe and Mercedes), held hostage in that underground lab. Let them have brief flashes of rebellion - they’re stuck, all the same.</p><p>“We need to know more about their powers if we’re going to take them on.” </p><p>Sylvain laughs, bitter and high-pitched, edging towards hysterical. “Take them on? I know you’re stubborn as hell, Felix, but it’s over. We’re dead men walking.” </p><p>“Shut up and <em> listen</em>. Their names. They have to mean something, right? Nemesis created them for some purpose and they’re fulfilling it. <em> You </em>were always the smart one - what do you think?” </p><p>Sylvain shrugs and answers with the air of someone humoring a child. Like what he’s saying doesn’t matter either way, but he just wants the tantrum to stop. “Pieces of the old King’s soul, specifically the flaws inside it? Either that, or their personalities are just constructs that represent the Sin they’re named for.” </p><p>“Right. So. Either way. Lust is our opening. You’re Sylvain Gautier - they’ll be expecting you to drool all over her.” </p><p>Sylvain scowls. “I <em> haven’t</em>. Not since Ingrid and I-” </p><p>They really don’t have time for this. Felix grits his teeth. “<em> I </em> know that and <em> you </em>know that, but the homunculi are arrogant. She won’t conceive of the idea that a weak human like you can grow and change.” </p><p>Finally, he sees a hint of a spark in his friend’s eyes. A little tiny piece that’s ready to start fighting back. “You’re asking me to... seduce the literal concept of Lust itself? Don’t you think that’s a bit more than I can handle?” </p><p>“No way. You’re not even gonna break a sweat,” Felix says.</p><p>Sylvain smirks, and the spark in his eyes becomes a gleam. “Okay. We’ll run ‘angry cop, horny cop.’ Like you said… it’s what they’re expecting.” </p><p>“Yeah. I can do that.” </p><p>“I’ll have to give her something. Let her think <em> she’s </em> seducing <em> me</em>.” </p><p>“Our alchemy,” Felix suggests. “Tell them the limitations in your technique - and mine. It’s nothing they don’t already suspect, but it’ll feel like she’s getting a secret out of you.” </p><p>“Good idea. Right…” Sylvain eyes himself in the train window critically, unbuttons the top button of his shirt, rolls up the sleeves of his jacket. “Show time.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It was Felix’s idea, but that doesn’t mean he likes <em> watching </em> it. He’s always detested liars, and knowing Sylvain as well as he does, the act is too put-on, too obvious. Sylvain’s crazy about Ingrid, and his heart isn’t really in the playboy routine that used to be his bread and butter.</p><p>But Felix guessed right, because Lust is eating it up. She’s so confident in her own appeal. Of course someone like Sylvain would be all over her the second he’s out of Ingrid’s sight. The thing in the shape of a woman giggles and simpers and generally makes Felix’s ears bleed.</p><p>He doesn’t have to fake the anger when he interrupts their flirting; she really <em> is </em>annoying the hell out of him.</p><p>“I assume you had some choice in what your human guises resembled. Yours is particularly pathetic. Oversized breasts and a low-cut dress, how <em>original</em>,” Felix sneers. “At least Gluttony had some imagination. A wizened old man instead of a fat blob. No matter how much he consumes, it’ll never be enough. <em>That’s </em>a good pick - it has depth.”</p><p>“You’re just jealous she’s all over <em> me </em> instead of <em> you</em>,” Sylvain says, flashing a shit-eating grin at him. “Hey Lust, let’s hit the dining car. I’d love to buy you dinner, and Felix, here, is killing the mood.”  </p><p>“You’re not fooling me, little human,” Envy says, once Sylvain and Lust leave them alone together in the compartment. Annette and Dedue are seated behind her, but her eyes have been on Felix the entire time. It’s clear that she sees him as the main potential threat, which is gratifying in an odd sort of way. </p><p>Felix says nothing, and eventually she keeps talking. </p><p>“<em>I assume </em> … bullshit. You’re trying to pump us for information. Figure out the extent of our abilities so you know if you can kill us once you get your sword back. You can’t, by the way. We can’t be killed. That’s why they call it <em> immortal</em>.” She’s using Dimitri’s voice, a flawless performance, except for the fact that Dimitri has never spoken to Felix with that sort of contempt. </p><p>“Interesting theory,” he grunts. </p><p>Envy twists Dimitri’s features into a smirk. “I’ll give you one for free. When I take someone’s shape, I can hear their thoughts. It’s how I can mimic them so perfectly.” </p><p><em> Impossible</em>, Felix thinks. There’s no such thing as mental alchemy. Envy said it herself, though she’d been wearing Mercedes’ face at the time. The Philosopher’s Stones don’t bypass all the normal restrictions; they’re large pools of energy, but they can’t do the impossible.</p><p>Right? </p><p>“Oh please,” Envy says, when he doesn’t say anything. “You can act all cool and aloof, but you’re dying for a peek inside. The answer is yes, by the way. He was in love with your big brother. He wishes it was you who died instead of Glenn.”</p><p>Felix jumps up and takes two steps towards her before his brain catches up with his body. He’d just told Sylvain the homunculi would have picked out Lust to distract Sylvain Gautier. He hadn’t thought that Envy was here for Felix Fraldarius. </p><p>Because yeah - in the deepest, darkest part of his soul, Felix had always been jealous of Glenn. It hadn’t been hateful, and he’d hadn’t loved his brother any less, but it had still been there. The knowledge that he’d never catch up to a prodigy like that. He’d been jealous all his life, and Envy knows it, and thinks she can play him.</p><p>Felix takes a deep breath and clings to another truth: Dimitri wouldn’t have played with his feelings like that. Even when they were both dumb teenagers, Dimitri had been kind and honest to a fault. If he was carrying a torch for Glenn, he would <em> never </em>have jerked Glenn’s little brother around, never treated him as some kind of stand-in for the real thing. </p><p>He steps back and sits back down, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p>“How boring,” Envy sighs. “If you’re going to act like such a hothead, at least follow through.” </p><p>“So you could harm him without offending Pride, using the playground logic of ‘he hit me first?’” Deude speaks up before Felix can formulate a retort. “How childish.” </p><p>“<em>Hey</em>,” Envy snarls, “I don’t <em> report </em>to Pride. We’re in this together.” </p><p>“Of course. That is why he was sitting on the throne and the rest of you were not,” Dedue says. His expression is absolutely set in stone, but when Felix looks over at him, he could’ve sworn… was that a <em> wink</em>? </p><p>Envy stops engaging after that, but the assertion of Pride’s dominance has clearly put the homunculus in a bad mood. She slumps over in Dimitri’s oversized body and glares out the window in a silent pout.</p><p>Sylvain verifies it when the train stops at the Arianrhod station and he can steal a couple moments with Felix without looking <em> too </em>suspicious. They dawdle in the crowd departing the train, speaking in whispers. </p><p>“Pride is the strongest of them, and it’s not even close. Lust doesn’t like him, but she’s also clearly afraid of him. Oh, and fun fact: there used to be seven of them. The seven Deadly Sins; now that’s a cute line-up.” </p><p>“How the hell did you get <em> that </em>out of her?” This was Felix’s idea, but he still didn’t expect it to work this well. He eyes Sylvain suspiciously, wondering if the dinner turned into something more carnal.</p><p>Sylvain catches his unspoken words and shakes his head, smirking. “Didn’t have to. Just kept telling her how great she is and acting like a lovestruck fool. I guess the literal concept of Lust is vain as hell.” </p><p>“We only saw four.”</p><p>“Yeah, so, Wrath and Sloth tried to overthrow Pride. Did <em> not </em>end well. Though, she seems to think they can be replaced, somehow - didn’t give me the details, obviously. And Greed fucked off about a century ago. They haven’t seen him since.” </p><p>That was… interesting. There was also absolutely nothing they could do about it for now, but every scrap of information helped. At least it confirmed that the Sins could be killed, despite what Envy had said. </p><p>“It’s not all good,” Sylvain says, and he extends his empty hands ruefully. “Had to give her my gloves. Sell her on the fact that I was more interested in fucking her than fighting her.”</p><p>“That’s fine,” Felix decides. Sylvain’s useless without them, and it would take him days to create new ones - even if he was left alone to work the alchemy - but still: “I don’t even have a sword. We aren’t fighting our way out of this. We have to be subtle.”</p><p>“I didn’t think the Sword Alchemist was <em> capable </em>of approaching problems from angles other than ‘stab them.’”</p><p>“Shows what you know,” Felix says, with an air of great dignity as they start to follow Envy out of the train station. “I also slashed them.”  </p><p>It’s not a <em> good </em> joke, but it’s unexpected enough that Sylvain starts laughing like an idiot; and even Felix allows himself a smirk. They might be trapped in an impossible situation, but their wills aren’t broken. As long as they’re willing to fight back, it’s not over. Not <em> yet</em>.</p><p>He just hopes Dimitri’s resolve is as strong as theirs. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The writing bug wouldn't let me go until I resolved the last chapter's set-up a little so here you are.</p><p>I have the rest of the story outlined and can confirm the 10 chapters. The holiday season might make updates come faster or we might be waiting until the new year, we shall see how busy I get...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Avaritia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The legendary, honorable, and distinguished General Gustave Dominic is an <em> idiot</em>. </p><p>Felix barely knows Annette, but it’s obvious to <em> him </em>that she’s frightened of the thing pretending to be Dimitri. She manages to trip over her own feet three times on the short walk from the gates of Arianrhod to the formal conference room. Her father has to catch her one of these times! But he still doesn’t realize that his daughter is trembling from head to toe, or why she keeps casting fearful glances at Fake Dimitri.</p><p>Envy is not amused. She glares back at Annette and once, when Gustave isn’t looking, draws a finger across her throat. Annette stares back with wide eyes before dropping back to the rear of the party and clamping her mouth firmly shut. </p><p>Gustave insists on all of the formalities once they’re seated around the table. Privates stream in and out of the room with tea and coffee and anything else the fortress can scrounge up for its honored guest. Felix grinds his teeth and clenches his fists under the table. He’s already sick of this charade, and he hasn’t even been asked to play his part over in Fraldarius - yet.</p><p>“It is very good to see you again,” Gustave is saying, and he stands up and <em> actually bows</em>, like they’re some sort of ancient kingdom instead of a dictatorship. Surely a salute would suffice? </p><p>Dimitri, the real Dimitri, would be horribly embarrassed. He already would’ve told Gustave to stop fawning and to simply treat him like the friends they are. Envy might have Dimitri’s appearance and gestures down to a science, but this betrays her. Envy is all too eager to bask in the attention and the respect the false face brings her.</p><p>Of course Gustave does not notice, because Gustave, as previously established, is an idiot. </p><p>“I knew there was something going on at High Command. Unfortunately, they did not take kindly to my investigation… And here I am.” </p><p>“It’s a blessing in disguise,” Envy tells him. “Your troops are loyal to you, are they not?” </p><p>“Very much so. I have not been here long, but I believe they can be trusted. Many of the officers are in similar positions to myself - shunted out of Fhirdiad because of politics,” Gustave says with a scowl.</p><p>“That is excellent news, Gustave. I believe we are very close to avenging my father’s death,” Envy says solemnly. Felix has to admit she’s warming up to the role - that painful earnestness is Dimitri to a T. “Will your army be ready to march by the end of the month?” </p><p>“Of course,” the General promises. “You are heading to the southern border next, I assume?” </p><p>“Yes - then the western and northern,” Envy says, indicating Felix and Sylvain in turn. “May we have a letter of introduction to the Thunder Alchemist? I fear I do not know her as well as I would like.” </p><p>Gustave nods and orders an assistant to arrange for it. Envy stands to leave, but Gustave hesitates, still seated at the table. </p><p>“I have full faith that we will succeed, and yet… could you spare me a few minutes with my daughter? The field of battle is unpredictable, and there is the possibility that this is the last time we will see one another…” </p><p>Felix hides a smirk under the pretense of coughing into his sleeve. It was clearly unintentional, but Gustave stumbled into something useful at last. Real Dimitri would be falling over himself to give a father and daughter time for a tearful reunion, but <em> Envy </em>couldn’t trust her hostage alone with her mark. </p><p>“D-don’t be ridiculous, father,” Annette says, after Envy glares her into breaking the ensuing awkward silence. “We need to get going! But don’t worry, I’ll see you when we reach Fhirdiad with the northern army.” </p><p>Gustave immediately loses all his accumulated points with Felix by not pushing it. He just bows his head solemnly. “Until then.” </p><p>Envy is silent until they’re back in the car. Then she twists Dimitri’s head at an unnatural angle to regard the four hostages in the back seat.  </p><p>“That was the first one, so I’ll give you a pass, but if <em> any </em> of you hesitate the next time they try to get you alone… I just need to make one phone call and one of your little friends dies. Don’t forget that we <em> only </em>need Dimitri alive.” </p><p>Sylvain rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry. Actually, do worry, because Miklan <em> hates </em>me. You think bringing me is some sort of masterstroke, but it’s only gonna backfire.”</p><p>“So you’re admitting you’re useless? If you’d rather I leave your corpse on the side of the road, that can be arranged,” Envy snarls. </p><p>“Oh, don’t be such a brute,” Lust says, putting a hand on fake Dimitri’s arm and gesturing back to the road. “As for your brother, don’t worry your pretty little head. Give me a few minutes and he’ll be eating out of my hand.”</p><p>“Maybe I’ll kill <em> him. </em> Keep you all to myself,” Sylvain says. He spares Felix a quick wink before launching back into the innate flirting routine. Envy looks as disgusted by it as Felix feels, but it serves its purpose. They’re still convinced Sylvain is the empty-headed fool he’s pretending to be. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>If Arianrhod is the crown jewel in Faerghus’ defense network, the Magdred Way Fortress is its complete opposite. Hastily constructed for form over function, it’s an ugly concrete slab, perched at the opening pass through the Oghma Mountains. It ensures that there’s only one way in or out of Faerghus from the south, unless one is suicidal enough to risk the dense fog and wild beasts that accompany climbing over the mountains themselves.</p><p>Cassandra Charon, the Thunder Alchemist, is Gustave’s opposite in every way. Where the old General stood on ceremony, she’s brash and informal. She greets the party like they’re just another set of drinking buddies, instead of the late dictator’s son and his formal retinue. </p><p>She and the real Dimitri would get along, though Envy-as-Dimitri is a little nonplussed at being slapped on the back and referred to as “kid.” </p><p>“Cassandra. How long has it been - a decade, at least?” </p><p>“Yeah, you were just a little pipsqueak! You’ve really grown up, huh?” </p><p>“I suppose I have,” Envy says neutrally. She’s clearly unsure of the dynamic that is supposed to exist between them, and chooses to play it safe.</p><p>“Much better haircut, too,” Cassandra says decisively. Her gaze lingers over the missing eye, but to Felix’s surprise, she doesn’t come out and ask what happened to it. Maybe her bluntness has limits - or maybe she assumes it was a battle wound, and that she already knows the full story.</p><p>“Good to see you again too, Annette. Don’t suppose you have time for a spar before we get down to business?” </p><p>Annette’s lie is much better prepared, this time. “I wish, but we’re on a tight schedule. Especially since we’d need to travel for <em> hours </em>to be safely out of range…” </p><p>Cassandra laughs, loud and hearty. “Eh, you worry too much. We had that battlement fixed back up in no time!” </p><p>“I apologize,” Envy says. “I wish we could spare her, but there’s simply too much to do. So - Gustave tells me that your men have, er, bought in?”</p><p>“If you mean they hate those puffed-up pigs calling themselves High Command - sure do! And I always <em> knew </em>there was something fishy about Duscur. The line they tried to sell us just didn’t make sense.” </p><p>“Yeah,” Felix agrees. “They’re really not as smart as they think they are.” </p><p>Envy glares at him, but has to let it pass when Cassandra nods enthusiastically. “My only concern is that Adrestia will notice our troop movements and try to claim the Fortress while it’s undermanned. So I had some ideas about that. Quake here can knock a few mountains over and block the pass. It’ll take them weeks to clear the rubble!” </p><p>“A very good idea. All of us will go,” Envy says, before any of them can try to wriggle away. “My own alchemy is… suited for destruction on that scale.” </p><p>“Wish I could see it in action!” Cassandra says. For a brief moment, Felix hopes that she comes with them - with the Thunder Alchemist on their side, they’d<em> really </em>have a chance in a fight. But his hopes are dashed with her next sentence. “Ah, well. Make sure to put on a show for me when we hit Fhirdiad!”</p><p>“Oh, I will,” Envy says, not bothering to hide her smirk. “You’ll be blown away.”    </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The western border is the longest, bringing its own set of complications. While the east, south, and north can get away with one major fortress, the Eastern General has to manage a long, contentious shared border with Leicester. There are no natural defenses, just a series of long trenches as both sides dug in on their respective claims. </p><p>The importance of the post explains why it has been traditionally given to the Duke Fraldarius. Rodrigue and the late dictator were particularly close, with the Duke supporting his liege’s call for an end to the continual border wars. </p><p>Now Felix realizes how close he came to losing a father as well as a brother. If Pride and his minions thought that eliminating the last Lambert loyalists was worth an open war against the Shield Alchemist, they could have done it - having felt their power, he no longer had any doubt about that.</p><p>If he didn’t cooperate, they’d probably have a go at it just to punish him. If he <em> did </em>cooperate, Rodrigue was dead anyway, thanks to the ritual. A nice bind they found themselves in. </p><p>Rodrigue is touring the trenches - as he often does - but he sends word that the party should meet him in the Conrad HQ. The two homunculi and four hostages wait impatiently. Lust has covered her tattoo and is calling herself Cornelia, a noble from the capital who Felix suspects met a gruesome end so that nobody would ask questions about why she was in two places at once. </p><p>Envy has the presence of mind to interrogate Felix on how he should act this time, considering how close Dimitri is to Rodrigue. Felix toys with feeding her false info on purpose and making a break for it, but it’s a brief, useless fantasy.</p><p>Rodrigue walks in with his usual honor guard, but they aren’t alone. A man Felix has never seen before, dressed in a Leicester general’s uniform but with darker skin that resembles an Almyran’s, trails just behind the Eastern General. Seven soldiers form his own honor guard. By instinct, Felix turns his head to look at Envy and Lust, to see how they’ll react to the unexpected complication - </p><p>Lust’s mouth drops open in shock. She controls herself quickly, but the damage is done. Envy is less subtle, glaring at the stranger with Dimitri’s single eye. </p><p>“Dimitri!” Rodrigue cries, dropping to one knee. Envy snaps herself out of it, following Felix’s instructions and lifting the General back up to hug him instead of standing on ceremony. </p><p>Envy botches it, though. The real Dimitri wouldn’t rush through their greetings and impatiently ask: “Who is <em> this</em>?” </p><p>“Ah,” Rodrigue says, a small smile on his face. “This is fortuitous timing indeed! As you know, it was your late father’s dearest wish that we secure peace at our borders; and <em> this </em>is King Claude von Riegan, leader of the Leicester Alliance! He reached out to me and suggested we hold formal talks.” </p><p>“Is that so,” Envy mutters. </p><p>“Ah, but we’ve been fighting for hundreds of years - what’s the rush?” Claude says, winking at the false Dimitri. “I understand this is a reunion of family and friends! Our business can wait until tomorrow. As long as I’m here, the cease-fire is in place.”</p><p>Rodrigue turns gratefully to his guest. “I would greatly appreciate that, Your Majesty. Here, my son can show you to the guest suite, and provide for anything you might need.” </p><p>Felix’s first instinct is to tell his old man to fuck off; his second, to refuse with more politeness. But luckily he ignores both, because the look on Envy’s face turns from murderous to… <em> afraid.</em> She doesn’t want him anywhere <em> near </em>this Claude von Riegan. </p><p>“Of course. Follow me,” he says stiffly. </p><p>Sylvain immediately sees through him - as he often does - but luckily he just runs for it, throwing an arm around Envy and Rodrigue’s shoulders and starting to tell a long and involved story about something he and Felix did. By the time Envy can get a word in edgewise without blowing cover as the painfully polite Dimitri... Felix and Claude are gone. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Felix leads Claude and his soldiers to the guest wing. Claude chatters non-stop about his home country and how things are changing now that he’s in control - an event he refers to as a <em> regime change </em> and Felix reads as <em> a coup </em> - as they pass Faerghan soldiers.</p><p>Once they’re in the guest quarters, the door firmly shut and locked, Claude’s body language changes. He stands up a little straighter, making sharp and silent gestures. His seven soldiers get to work, positioning themselves around the room at every door and window. Bodyguards, operating with smooth and practiced ease. </p><p>“What the hell are you?” Felix asks bluntly. </p><p>“King Claude von Riegan. I seem to recall your father introducing me-” </p><p>“Cut the shit. No human ruler would make those two <em> nervous</em>.” </p><p>“Ah, so you know the truth about my dear sisters. Good - that saves us time.” Claude grins at him and removes one of his uniform gloves with a flourish. The same tattoo as the one on Lust’s chest is clearly visible on his hand.</p><p>“You’re Greed,” Felix breathes.</p><p>“The one and only,” he says with a wink. </p><p>Felix’s hands reach uselessly for a sword that isn’t there. “Great. Even if we beat Pride, there’s another monster in charge of our closest enemy-” </p><p>Something cold and hard closes over his wrist. Felix looks down to see Claude’s hand - but it’s no longer flesh, no, it’s covered in some sort of metal. Claude is still grinning, but his eyes are hard as he says: “I’d be more polite if I were you, little Fraldarius. Believe it or not, I’m here to help you.” </p><p>“Oh yeah? How exactly are you gonna help us, hom- <em> Riegan</em>?” </p><p>Claude gives a dramatic sigh and releases Felix’s wrist. “Considering your reputation, I suppose that’s as good as I’ll get in terms of courtesy.”</p><p>“Damn right,” Felix snarls. God, he wishes for a sword. “You say you want to help - why the hell should I believe you?” </p><p>“I know what Pride’s plan is,” Claude says, speaking slowly and with exaggerated emphasis, like he’s explaining the alphabet to a small child. “I know that if he isn’t stopped, he’ll destroy Faerghus.” </p><p>“And you care… why?” </p><p>“Pride <em> hates </em>me, ever since I told him to shove all his grand plans up his ass and left. Once he completes that ritual, even I won’t be able to fight him - and believe me, hunting me down to extract my Stone and create a more compliant Greed will be at the top of his list.”</p><p>“I guess I can see that,” Felix admits. “But hold on. Why’d you leave?” </p><p>Claude smirks at him. “I’m <em> Greed</em>, kid. I want to own this world and everything in it! Not play second fiddle to a homicidal maniac with delusions of grandeur.” </p><p>“So you’ve started with Leicester - <em> and </em>Almyra,” Felix guesses, arms folded over his chest.</p><p>“Ooh, he’s clever. I told you he was clever,” Claude says to one of his bodyguards. Felix notices that they’re all dressed… rather flamboyantly for soldiers. A pink-haired woman accents her uniform with a decidedly non-regulation pink scarf; a purple-haired man with a cravat in the same color; and so forth. </p><p>“If you want to own the whole world, don’t you want Faerghus, too? Is this peace treaty just a ploy? Will the war resume once Pride is gone?” </p><p>“So many questions,” Claude complains. “Look, the treaty offer is genuine. I’m tired of wasting <em>my </em>people on a pointless war. There are other ways to control the world - Leicester’s merchants will make me the richest man on the continent, once they’re allowed to travel freely. And once I’m the only homunculus left alive, manipulating your dumb mortal rulers will be child’s play.”</p><p>“So you <em> just </em>want to be an immortal god-king. The next Nemesis,” Felix accuses.  </p><p>“No, aren’t you even listening? I would never sacrifice my people. They’re <em> mine</em>,” Claude says, and he suddenly looks a lot less amused. “If I don’t protect the people that belong to me, I don’t deserve to call myself Greed.” </p><p>He shouldn’t be trusting this self-admitted homunculi, and yet - if the creatures truly represent each own essential vice, why not? Greed’s motivations make sense. He has no reason to lie and concoct some grand plan - and if he meant to harm Felix, he could do it now, when the Sword Alchemist was weaponless. </p><p>“Okay,” Felix says. “Let’s say I trust you. Pride has the real Dimitri and other hostages. If we try anything, they’re dead.”</p><p>“Only if my sisters can get to a phone,” Claude smirks. “I assure you, I won’t be giving them that chance.” </p><p>“There’s one of you and two of them. Can that fancy skin of yours hold up to whatever they can do?” </p><p>“The Ultimate Shield,” Claude corrects him. “Sure can. It’ll block anything, even Lust’s Ultimate Spear-” he makes a swiping motion with one hand, as if that’s supposed to mean something to Felix, “-and Envy’s true, monstrous form. Besides, I’m not alone.” </p><p>Felix looks at the bodyguards again, truly studying them, and now he <em> really </em>sees it. Their bodies resemble those of a human, but there’s something just slightly wrong about it. Proportions that are a little too large. As he stares, the purple-haired man winks at him and lets something long and spiky grow out of one hand-</p><p>Felix swears. “You made <em> chimera?</em>” </p><p>“Hey, I’m not Pride. They all volunteered,” Claude tells him. “My Golden Deer all had something they wanted, so we made a deal. Lystheia was dying of some wasting disease… Lorenz, there, desired the power to seize control of his House… and Hilda, well, she just wanted to get out of <em> her </em>noble obligations; coming to work for me was much more fun, wasn’t it?” </p><p>“For now,” the pink-scarfed chimera drawls. </p><p>“I’m not sure any human truly knows what they’re getting into when they make a deal with a - with Greed,” Felix mutters. </p><p>“You’re <em>still</em> not hearing me,” Claude scoffs. “Willing and eager allies accomplish my goals <em> much </em>better than slaves ever could. Listen - are you in, or not? My sisters aren’t gonna wait long before they come after you.”</p><p>“I don’t have any other choice. We need you.” </p><p>“Smart man.” Claude pats him on the head, smirking (and ducking smoothly out of the way when Felix tries to punch him). “Here - I’ve done my homework-” </p><p>Another of his chimera, this one a blue-haired woman with a blue cape, steps forward and hands Felix two curved scimitars, clearly Almyran make; a hammer that’s much more ordinary-sized than Crusher, but will have to do; and a box with a pair of gloves, plus all of the materials an alchemist like Sylvain will need to draw his circles and turn them into a deadly weapon. </p><p>“Now get going,” Claude says, making an exaggerated ‘shooing’ motion.</p><p>There’s not enough time to say goodbye to his father or even explain what’s going on. Felix sprints to retrieve Sylvain, Annette, and Dedue, and tells himself that Rodrigue will be fine. The famous Shield Alchemist can protect himself in any situation… right? </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“We’re putting an awful lot of faith in Greed’s self-interest,” is all Sylvain says once they’re on the train heading north. (It might be Pride’s plan, but they still need all four armies to <em> actually </em>attack Fhirdiad if they’re to stand a chance against him). </p><p>Felix groans, head in his hands. “I don’t know if it was the right call, okay? I didn’t have a lot of options - or <em> time</em>.” </p><p>“No, you’re right. It was our only option, really. I just hope that he’s as strong as he thinks he is… if something happened to Ingrid because we tried to run, I couldn’t forgive myself.”</p><p>Nothing kills a conversation <em> quite </em>like a reminder of their friends and loved ones being held hostage. The rest of the hours-long train ride is silent as the grave. Sylvain just works on his new gloves, face drawn and pale; Dedue cleans his shotgun compulsively; Annette carves a circle into the new hammer; Felix sharpens his new scimitars and stares out the window. </p><p>The last thing Felix is expecting to see when they get off at the Gautier station is Dimitri, but - there he is, waiting eagerly for their train. His heart hammers in his chest. If Envy is already here - if Greed betrayed them - then Dimitri and Ingrid and Mercedes and Ashe are all - </p><p>… Are all walking up to stand with Dimitri? Okay, <em> that </em>doesn’t make any sense. Envy has only shown the capability to mimic one person at a time, not four-</p><p>Sylvain just <em> stares </em> at Ingrid, as if rooted to the train car; but Felix springs into action, barreling down the steps and straight past a flustered conductor until he’s standing right in front of Dimitri, jabbing a finger into his chest.</p><p>“What are you <em> doing </em>here?” </p><p>Dimitri just smiles that stupid, earnest smile of his. “Hello to you too, Felix. I am happy to see you safe as well, Felix.” </p><p>“Oh <em> shut up</em>. No, start talking. How the hell did you get free!? And you could’ve, I don’t know, <em> called </em>me-” </p><p>“We didn’t have any time… Look, it’s a long story.”</p><p>“The sooner you start, the sooner it’s over,” Felix snarls. </p><p>Ingrid laughs at him, and <em> damn</em>, it’s good to hear something like that again. “It <em> is </em>a long walk up the mountain to the Wall. It’d pass the time-” </p><p>That’s about all she has time to say before Sylvain envelops her in a bone-crushing hug. It’s obvious to Felix that the Dark Alchemist was convinced he’d never see her again. He’s openly weeping at just being able to hold her again. Ingrid shoots Felix an exasperated look, but her expression softens almost immediately when she looks back at Sylvain.</p><p>Mercedes and Annette give them a run for their money in the hugging and crying department. Even Dedue and Ashe embrace briefly before speaking in low Duscurian, a soft smile on both of their faces. </p><p>Felix looks at Dimitri. Dimitri looks at Felix. By mutual agreement, they do not hug. </p><p>“I <em> am </em>glad you made it out,” Felix does admit, in a very low voice.</p><p>“Nothing is going to stand between us,” Dimitri says fervently. “I’ve done the impossible once before; I’ll do it as often as I must to return to you.” </p><p>“Seriously? Using human transmutation as… as a line? At a time like <em> this</em>?”</p><p>“It’s only stupid if it doesn’t work,” Dimitri says, and god, Felix wants to punch that smug look off his face. Or kiss it off. Or both- </p><p>“Uh, we should <em> probably </em>get going,” Ingrid says, sounding as flustered as Felix feels. God only knows what Sylvain was trying to do before she interrupted him. “We’re standing around in the open-” </p><p>“Yeah. The Wall. We should… we should go,” Felix says quickly. </p><p>“Yes. Exposure to the freezing cold is likely to do all of you good,” Dedue says, so solemnly that Felix could <em> almost </em>believe he didn’t mean it like that. Though… Ashe losing his mind with laughter sort of ruins the illusion.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Surprise Claude is best Claude. I had him in mind for Greed as soon as this advanced from a one-shot to a multi-chapter story. One of his lines is shamelessly stolen from what Ling tells the actual Greed in FMA. </p><p>I will not apologize for Gilbert/Gustave slander; he's getting off better than he usually does for me by actually telling Annette what he's up to instead of running away lmao</p><p>Next chapter: we leave Felix's POV for a single interlude that explains how, exactly, our hostages managed to escape.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Great Escape</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Generations of Faerghan alchemists and engineers battled the northern mountains to carve out a functional mechanism for lifting soldiers up to the top of the Fortress. The current model most closely resembles an oversized ski lift. The cars take hours to slowly crawl from the train station to their destination - any faster would risk a disastrous avalanche.</p><p>On the bright side, the eight of them can be absolutely sure of their privacy once they’re alone in one of the cars. And it gives Dimitri, Ingrid, Mercedes, and Ashe plenty of time to explain how, exactly, they got out here. </p><p>Mercedes is the first one to start talking. “As soon as you left, Pride put us to work. His goal was to create a new Wrath and Sloth, bringing his group back to full strength…” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“There’s nothing particularly complicated about it,” Mercedes explains. Her voice is grim and resigned. “Philosopher's Stones are composed of human souls. Homunculi are powered by Stones. So creating a new one is simplicity itself. Kill enough people, harvest their life essence, and inject it into a new host body…” </p><p>They watch as some of Pride’s human lackeys - either too well paid or too scared to question the murder taking place down here - finish strapping the latest candidate down to the bed. They don’t recognize the woman, never had a chance to ask her name. She struggles vainly against her bonds as the “doctors” produce a vial filled with bright red liquid - the distilled souls - and shoot it into her arm. </p><p>The woman screams and doesn’t stop screaming. Her body begins to <em> bubble </em>as the proto-Stone invades it. She jerks and writhes involuntarily, like a puppet dancing on its strings. Her bones shudder and snap, and then - </p><p>She stops moving and slumps down, dead. The lackeys make annoyed noises and extract the red material. Ready to try again on another victim. </p><p>“Once the subject is injected, hundreds of souls battle each other for dominance. If the subject survives, they gain the power to command that whole legion,” Mercedes says, her voice as detached as she can make it. The other three aren’t used to this. They’re still staring at the dead woman as the false doctors wheel her body out of the room. </p><p>“<em>None </em> of them have survived. They’re all consumed and killed when the Stone enters their bodies. I watched my brother die in this same room, through this same pane of glass,” Mercedes says softly.  </p><p>“I’m so sorry,” Ashe says, a little awkwardly, because it’s so small and insufficient. He can’t imagine a loss of that magnitude - thank the Goddess, all of his brothers and sisters still live. The thought of having to watch them die in agony, helpless to intervene… it was too much. He was surprised Mercedes hadn’t let that break her. </p><p>“The next round of <em> candidates</em>, victims, are a pair of kidnapped Adrestian nobles,” Ingrid says, remembering what Gluttony/Solon had told them before forcing them to watch a demonstration. “And they’ll force us to administer the injections ourselves. Why?”</p><p>“Two birds with one stone,” Dimitri says grimly. “If the experiments succeed, Pride’s power grows. If they fail, he can still use that to his own ends. The heir to the Faerghan dictatorship personally killing two important Adrestians is the perfect excuse for war.”  </p><p>He gives the cameras in the room a sour look. Disabling them would be simplicity itself, and Pride needed him alive; but he didn’t need the other three alive, and he’d made the price of any potential defiance perfectly clear. Obey his orders to the letter, or one of the others would die. Shit, he’d probably start with Ingrid. How could Dimitri face Sylvain again if he let anything happen to her? </p><p>“I do have one idea,” Mercedes says softly. “We inject only half the dose. It’s simple math. It gives them a better chance to survive, and increases our odds that the soul that wins the battle is, well, the original person - not Wrath or Sloth. With a human mind in control of all that power, we <em> might </em>be able to fight our way out of here.” </p><p>Ingrid shakes her head. “They’re watching our every move. They’d notice something like that.” </p><p>“Instantly,” Mercedes agrees. “There’s a <em> very </em>low chance of this working, and a very high chance of us being killed for attempting it. Except you, of course,” she nods at Dimitri, “but death is easier than what they’d do to you.” </p><p>Ashe licks his lips. His hands are trembling, but his voice is steady. “I say we do it. I’d rather go down fighting than be a party to torturing and killing people.” </p><p>“I have no right to ask that of you, when I will be the only one they spare,” Dimitri says. “Look, I’ll do the injections - it’s me they want on camera, anyway-” </p><p>“Don’t you dare,” Ingrid says. “I am a State Alchemist. I’ve always been prepared to put my life on the line.” </p><p>He looks at her. How stern and resolved she is. Ashe is scared out of his mind, but putting on the bravest possible face. Mercedes gives him a small, humorless smile. Something in her broke when she watched her brother die. She’s willing to risk joining him - anything to have a chance at stopping the monsters that claimed his life. </p><p>Dimitri takes a deep breath, and nods once. Very well. He’ll risk throwing the lives of three of his people away, on a desperate gamble with only a slim chance of success. Isn’t that what it means to rule a nation? </p><p>
  <em> Felix... hold on. I’m coming to save you.  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The two Adrestian nobles are hauled into the torture chamber pretending to be a medical examination room and secured to twin gurneys. Dimitri doesn’t recognize either of them. The diplomatic training and functions he did attend, before Duscur, familiarized him with a handful of Adrestians - including the then-Princess, now-Emperor - but not these particular two. </p><p>It quickly turns out that the reverse does not hold true. </p><p>“You’re Dimitri Blaiddyd,” the taller of the captive blurts. A messy shock of green hair covers some of his face. Now that Dimitri is up close, he can see that both of the captives are very young, probably about the same age as he and his friends.</p><p>“No shit?” the shorter one blurts, struggling vainly with his restraints. “Hey, Lin, we found him! I knew we could do it!” </p><p>“Yes, Caspar, but I wouldn’t celebrate just yet,” the other says, with a long-suffering sigh. “I’ve got a feeling we won’t be reporting our success to the Emperor. He’s here to kill us.”</p><p>“What?” Caspar says, and then he gets a good look at the wicked-looking syringe in Dimitri’s hands. He does a comical double-take and looks around the room, noting the bloodstains on his gurney, the floor, and the walls, from where the recently killed test subjects were dragged out of the room by Pride’s servants, careless of the mess.</p><p>“Well, shit. Hey, you bastards better let me out of here, or I’ll break your faces in!”</p><p>Lin, despite identifying the certainty of his death, lies serenely on his gurney with his eyes closed. Mercedes and Dimitri glance at each other and, by unspoken agreement, shift positions. Even Mercedes isn’t sure if the nature of the Sin matters to the outcome of the injection, but they need to increase their odds of success any way they can.   </p><p>“I’m sorry. Would you believe me if I said that I didn’t have a choice?” Dimitri says in a low voice. Nothing about his behavior should set Pride off, yet. He’s allowed to be reluctant, because the only thing that matters will be these two dying as a direct result of the injections.</p><p>“I would, actually,” Lin says, deigning to look up at his killer. “The Emperor has long suspected foul play in your father’s death. That’s <em> why </em>she sent us up here - to investigate. Unfortunately, none of us realized exactly what we were dealing with.” </p><p>Caspar growls in frustration. “I coulda taken any <em> human </em>who tried to grab us, no doubt about it! But that weird old man sucked us into some kinda… dark nothingness! By the time we woke up, we were down in this shithole!” </p><p>“The obvious conclusion is that these non-human individuals secretly control Faerghus. Your father attempted to work against them - and was eliminated. You have no choice but to do the same,” Lin says casually, as if he’s discussing the weather instead of his own demise. “No hard feelings. Once we’re dead, the Emperor will march up here and-”</p><p>“-kick their shit in,” Caspar chuckles. “<em>Nothing </em>can stop Edelgard.” </p><p>“I don’t doubt it. I’ve met her a few times myself,” Dimitri says. He has no doubt the woman would go up against Pride without flinching. </p><p>“That’s a Philosopher's Stone, right?” Lin says, nodding at the angry red liquid within the vial. “I thought so. I’ve dabbled in alchemy myself. Can’t imagine what being injected with one is going to feel like. A legion of souls attempting to consume my mind and body! It’ll be a fascinating experience. Albeit, likely to be over quicker than I’d like...” </p><p>“When we both survive, you can write a book about it!” Caspar proclaims, and - Dimitri wouldn’t have believed it if he wasn’t watching it - he actually sticks his arm out and waves it at Mercedes. “C’mon, I can take it!”</p><p>Dimitri crosses his fingers behind his back - their pre-arranged signal - and Ingrid acts, blowing the nearest camera to point up at the ceiling instead. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he says urgently, with his back to the remaining cameras. Hopefully, Pride will assume it’s a malfunction for a few crucial moments - they need all the time they can get. “I wish we could simply let you go, but we need you to match their power to have <em> any </em>chance of fighting our way out of here.”  </p><p>Then he and Mercedes inject the two with half the dose of souls.</p><p>The effects are as immediate and horrific as when they watched Pride’s lackey do it to the previous prisoner. Both men jerk and writhe and, despite Caspar’s bravado, scream in agony as the Stones attempt to claim them.</p><p>Mercedes, more accustomed to watching this than Dimitri, prises the vial from his fingers. She quickly empties what’s left from each shot into a small glass bottle. Now they’ve a Stone of their own, but not for long. She’ll need every drop of its power to heal Caspar and Lin - assuming they survive... </p><p>Dimitri claps his hand together and twists the keyhole on the metal door out of existence. It will only buy them a few more seconds - he can already hear Pride’s human servants hammering on the other side - but every one of those count. </p><p>Then the door is simply <em> devoured </em>from the outside. There’s no other word for it. One moment, the sturdy metal is there - the next, it is sucked up into something that most closely resembles a black hole, vanishing in an instant.</p><p>Gluttony steps through the empty space. He’s stopped pretending to be a human now. His skin is unnaturally white and his proportions are completely off. What mostly tips them off, though, is the corresponding void where a human’s belly would be. </p><p>“Such disobedient children,” Gluttony says, clicking his tongue. “We warned you, boy. Now sit and watch as I consume your little friends.” </p><p>Fat chance of that. Dimitri claps his hands to draw on his power and slams them into the ground. The blood-stained concrete rises up and starts to hurl itself straight at Gluttony, ripped into uneven chunks. Behind him, Ingrid readies a blast of her wind and Ashe hurls a knife that he somehow hid on his person.</p><p>It’s no use. Gluttony doesn’t even move out of the way. The black hole at his center absorbs every attack, one after the other. </p><p>“An appetizer. How thoughtful of you,” the homunculi smirks. </p><p>Then one of the gurneys is hurled directly at him. Gluttony manages to absorb it, but he doesn’t really have a quip when he looks up and spots the offender. Dimitri looks, too, and sees: Caspar, his clothes torn into rags from the force of his own writhing. Physically, he looks about the same, except that the same tattoo that adorns Lust’s chests is stamped over one of his eyes. Thin scars criss-cross his chest and arms, the aftermath of Mercedes’ rapid healing. </p><p>“Wrath?” Gluttony asks, though for the first time he sounds… uncertain. </p><p>The prisoner barks a laugh, sharp and hard. “I’ll tell you what I told him! I’m Caspar von Bergliez, and <em> you </em>can fuck right off!”</p><p>Gluttony hisses in displeasure and points a stick-thin finger at Caspar. A burst of energy coils out of him, eating up everything in the room in a direct line towards his target. It all flies into the void and disappears-</p><p>But Caspar is long gone. He laughs again, loud and mocking. “Is that all you got? My new Eye saw it coming a mile off!”  </p><p>Before Gluttony can try again, something slams into his back. It’s moving so fast that all Dimitri can see is a green-colored blur. Gluttony hits the ground <em> hard</em>. If he was actually the old man he appears to be, he’d have broken his neck.</p><p>“Fascinating,” Lin says, when he slows down enough to be visible to the human eye. “<em>Someone</em> felt like having a laugh when they chose the abilities for Sloth.” </p><p>Caspar whoops in joy. “This Eye is cool as hell! I saw <em> everything </em>- like you were moving at normal speed!”</p><p>“Hmm. Caspar, are you thinking what I’m thinking?” </p><p>“Oh yeah. This geezer doesn’t stand a chance!” </p><p>Dimitri casts a bemused look at Ingrid, Mercedes, and Ashe. A moment ago they were in mortal danger from a dangerous homunculi; now, they’d just get in the way even if they did try to help fight him.</p><p>Caspar and Lin dance around Gluttony. The former’s Eye apparently allows him to immediately read and interpret any movement their opponent makes. No matter what Gluttony tries, Caspar is always immediately moving back into his blind side. Lin’s ability is even stronger against him - because Gluttony can’t consume something that doesn’t stay still. </p><p>Lin hits Gluttony again, knocking him off-balance; and Caspar snatches a jagged shard of rock from the ground and drives it into Gluttony’s neck. It’s a mortal wound, but dying doesn’t even seem to slow the homunculi down. He nearly takes Capsar’s arm off in retaliation. The new Wrath shrugs - and kills Gluttony again. </p><p>It takes a while, but they eventually run through his Stone by draining it dry, over and over again. The rock stays lodged into Gluttony’s jugular. He coughs up black blood - and slumps to the ground. </p><p>Dimitri is initially wary of a trick before the homunculi’s body simply crumbles into dust. He spots the Stone, a flash of angry red - but it quickly loses its shape and color, and shatters into tiny pieces. </p><p>“Damn, we’re good,” Caspar shouts. He lifts one arm into the air like a boxer at the end of a grueling match, then slaps one palm against the other in a self-congratulatory high-five.</p><p>“We need to run away now, though,” Lin says. “Sloth is quaking in its metaphorical boots at the thought of fighting Pride. Apparently he’s several orders of magnitude more powerful than both of us put together.” </p><p>Mercedes blinks at him. “What did you say? Sloth is… still a distinct entity inside you?” </p><p>“I’m sure you want to study me at length - trust me, I would too - but we <em> really </em>don’t have time for this.” Lin lifts a single finger towards one of the shadows on the opposite wall. Even as they look, it slithers away like a snake - and if Dimitri’s eye isn’t playing tricks on him, that shadow possesses its own eye. And teeth. Very sharp teeth. </p><p>They run. Not quickly enough. The shadow-things explode out of the walls and ceiling, snapping at their ankles like hungry animals. Ashe yelps as two of them tangled around both legs and lift him into the air-</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Shadows with teeth? Seriously?” Sylvain interrupts with a nervous laugh. As if that’s somehow more unbelievable than Mercedes creating the next two Sins and everything that happened after that. </p><p>Felix thinks he knows the real reason for Sylvain’s interjection. Several hours have passed since the former hostages started recounting the story, and their car is drawing ever closer to the top of the mountain. Which means the Fortress. Which means… General Miklan Gautier. </p><p>“I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t seen it, but…” Ashe lifts the leg of his pants a few inches, enough for Sylvain to see the fresh bandages. “Took a good bite out of me. I don’t even want to <em> think </em>about what would’ve happened next.” </p><p>“How’d you get away?” </p><p>“We have you to thank for that, actually,” Dimitri says, with a somewhat sheepish grin. “I remembered how <em> your </em>alchemy works. Even something as powerful as Pride can’t overcome the nature of a thing, right? Shadows are shadows. So I transmuted the wall behind me into a flash grenade. Filled the entire hallway with nothing but light - his shadows had nothing to contrast and anchor to.” </p><p>Annette whistles. “That was quick thinking!” </p><p>“He also forgot to warn us it was coming,” Ingrid says, trying and largely failing to contain her laughter. “So in those few crucial seconds we gained, we were all staggering around and blinking spots out of our eyes.”</p><p>Dimitri coughs, his face flushed. “Er, yes. Luckily, Caspar’s new Eye was immune to the effects, and he brought down the wall behind us. The rubble shielded us as we made good our escape.” </p><p>“And you didn’t bring those two along? Humans with the powers of homunculi could be damn useful,” Sylvain says.</p><p>“No, we couldn’t. They’d already been missing for several days, and Emperor Edelgard is on the verge of declaring war on Faerghus. Lin thinks he’ll be able to talk her down, but only if they present themselves to the court in person.” </p><p>“That’s just great,” Felix mutters. “Now <em> both </em>Leicester and Adrestia have homunculi to add to their arsenal.” </p><p>Dimitri blinks his single eye slowly, his mouth dropping open. “Excuse me?” </p><p>Felix tersely recounts what Claude von Riegan - Greed - told him. Dimitri looks suspicious at first, but he’s nodding by the end of the story. </p><p>“If he really signs that peace treaty, I suppose we have no choice but to take him at his word. But it’s all the more important that we defeat Pride ourselves,” Dimitri says firmly. “I don’t wish to be indebted to Greed - nor the Emperor. We’ll already be in a weakened position as we’re recovering from his foul influence.”</p><p>“Easier said than done,” Felix says. “He’s going to pick the battleground. Make sure he’s outside, for instance, so flash grenades and Sylvain’s alchemy aren’t as effective.” </p><p>“And even though it was his plan to begin with, we <em> still </em>need all four border armies to have a chance of breaking through Fhirdiad’s defenses.” Ingrid casts a worried look at Sylvain. They all do, though Felix manages to be more subtle about it. </p><p>The shit that Miklan did to his own brother was unconscionable. He should’ve been thrown in prison to rot, not handed a military officership - but those were the privileges of being the eldest son of the rich and powerful Gautier clan. Now they have to show up at the Fortress and beg that abusive asshole for his help. </p><p>Felix says as much, adding, “Nobody could blame you if you refused, Syl. We could find another way. Go back to Greed, or wait for Adrestia-” </p><p>Sylvain cuts him off. “No. We have to do this. Faerghan independence is more important than one fuckup with brother issues, isn’t it?” </p><p>“Don’t talk about yourself that way,” Felix says in a low voice, glaring at his friend. Of all the times to slump into self-hatred... “You’re worth ten of Miklan-” </p><p>“And we have your back completely,” Dimitri cuts in, trying to smooth everything over in that way he always used to. “I’m to be the next ruler of this country. If he tries anything, he’ll find out exactly what that means.” </p><p>Ingrid doesn’t say anything, but she takes Sylvain’s hand in both of hers. </p><p>The rest of the ride passes in awkward silence. Luckily, they’re only a few minutes from the top. A group of Faerghan soldiers in the winter uniforms of the Fortress are waiting for them. Felix tenses for a moment - they haven’t exactly been able to trust their own military so far - but the soldiers merely salute when they see Dimitri. </p><p>“Sir!”</p><p>Dimitri lets out the breath he’d been holding involuntarily. “At ease… I must speak urgently with General Gautier. Can you take me to him?” </p><p>“Sir, the General is out beyond the Wall! We had a Srengi incursion, and he’s leading our response team!” </p><p>“I thought he was in command here,” Felix says with a scowl. “Isn’t that the work of a lower-ranking officer?” </p><p>The speaker eyes him suspiciously before nodding. “Yes, sir, but that’s the General for you!” </p><p>Sylvain’s face reflects his emotions. It’s caught somewhere between contempt, abject confusion at the idea of Miklan actually giving a shit about his job, and relief that they aren’t actually going to meet him right away. </p><p>“When will he return?” Dimitri asks.</p><p>“We aren’t expecting him back until tomorrow, sir! Please, allow us to show you to guest quarters!” </p><p>The company of soldiers wheels around sharply and escorts a bemused-looking Dimitri into the Fortress. Felix follows them, but stops as a single soldier taps him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir, but you’re Major Fraldarius? The Sword Alchemist?” </p><p><em> Surprised they haven’t court-martialed all of us for desertion. Technically, yes. </em>“Yes, that’s right,” he says aloud. </p><p>“Telegram for you, sir. From Eastern.” The soldier deposits the envelope into his hands and lingers. Felix remembers to formally dismiss him a few moments too late, but the soldier doesn’t comment, marching sharply away. </p><p>Huh. Felix wouldn’t have expected Miklan to keep his men so well-drilled.</p><p>He cuts the envelope open with a small knife. He assumes it’s an urgent communication from his father. If there’s any delay in the eastern army marching, it could disrupt all of their plans-</p><p>It’s not that. It’s worse.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Hey, little Fraldarius - Greed here!  </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> Sooo, remember how I was gonna keep Lust and Envy occupied? Yeah, that didn’t work out as well as we hoped. We were just warming up to have a real go at it when they got some urgent messages from Fhirdiad. Something about their prize captive managing to break himself out of there? </em>
  </p>
  <p><em> I gotta say, I’m impressed! I could barely get away from Pride in one piece, and I’m </em> me<em>. A lowly bunch of humans matching my achievement - you’re all to be congratulated! </em></p>
  <p><em> Oh yeah, but keep an eye out once you reach the Fortress. I’d bet anything that Envy is gonna get there first. And you know how she operates. She could be </em> anyone <em> by now.  </em></p>
  <p>
    <em> Sorry. My bad!  </em>
  </p>
  <p><em> Well. It’s all up to you humans now. I’ll be watching how this plays out with </em> great <em> interest.  </em></p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>Felix swears and crumbles the telegram in his fist. That smug bastard… he should’ve known Greed would ultimately be out for himself. The second slowing down Envy and Lust inconvenienced him, he’d let them walk away. </p><p>And if Envy <em> had </em>reached the Wall before them... they’d just walked right back into the homonculi’s trap. Like lambs to the slaughter. </p><p>He sprints after Dimitri, praying that he isn’t already too late. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think my estimate of 10 chapters is about right but we may see 10 + an epilogue. But no idea on when they are coming out. I no longer write on a schedule and 2021 is pure chaos. </p><p>Anyway I hope you enjoyed more surprise cameos lol. I think that is the final set of non-BL characters we will be seeing, but those two idiots being Wrath and Sloth was like Claude-as-Greed; it sprung fully formed into my mind as soon as I started thinking about expanding this out from the initial one-shot.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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